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Memorial Sketches

OF

Doctor Moses Gunn. .

BY HIS WIFE.

WITH EXTRACTS FROM HIS LETTERS

EULOGISTIC TRIBUTES

FKOM HIS

COLLEAGUES AND FRIENDS.

CHICAGO:
Wv- T. KEENER. 96 Washington St.

1889.

CoPYEiGHT, W. T. Keeneb, 1889.

^ebicateb

MY HUSBAND,

THE CENTER ROUND WHICH ALL MY MEMORIES REVOLVE

PEEFACE.

I have sought in these sketches to present a por-
trait of my husband limned from different points of
view.

Letters, like autobiography, bring us nearer to the
personality of the writer, especially when these are un-
premeditated. This is the quality of Doctor Gunn's
correspondence — a family correspondence — which was
never intended for publication, but which now largely
makes up these pages.

In the language of his letters is seen a shadow of
his living self; those from the army describe his ex-
perience as a surgeon in a military camp.

His protestations in behalf of General McClellan,
while they may be of no value to his memory, are
strong expressions of his individual belief in the man.

His hurried letters written during a rapid tour
through Europe, are inserted simply to show his tem-
perament and his keen sense of enjoyment.

To those who have set forth their conceptions of
his character and attainments, which are herein em-
bodied, and to others who have in any way aided me,
I feel most grateful.

J. A..G.

2101 Calumet Avenue, ChiQago.

CONTENTS.

PAGE.

Introduction xvii

CHAPTER I.

Birth and Lineage — Youthful Devotion to His
Sister — Boyhood — Academic Studies Inter-
rupted by Illness 1

CHAPTER II.

Student Life — Recollections of Dr. Corydon L.
Ford and Others 13

CHAPTER III.
A Bit of Romantic History » 20

CHAPTER IV.

Doctor Gunn's Personal Reminiscences, Written
for "The Chronicle" in 1886 23

vii

vm CONTENTS.

CHAPTEE V.

PAGE.

Arrival at Ann Arbor — "Satan," His First Horse;
"Bishop," Satan's Successor — The Doctor's
Devotions 36

CHAPTEE VI.

A Night Call— Winter of 1849-1850 in New
York, Philadelphia and Boston — Letters 40

CHAPTEE VII.

The First House — Domestic Economy — Anec-
dotes— Eemoval to Detroit 61

CHAPTEE VIII.

"Chestnut Place" — Enters the Army — Letters
from Camp — Experiences in Wind and Eain —
Hard Day's Work — Runaway Attempt to Ex-
plore Enemy's Country — Broadhead's Cav-
alry— Camp Richardson Deserted 68

CHAPTEE IX.

Marching Orders Countermanded — October
Roses — Alexandria — Camp Quarters at Fort
Lyon — The Lewis Mansion — Mount Vernon . . 89

CONTENTS. IX

CHAPTEE X.

PAGE.

Second Visit to Mount Yernon — Tribulations with
Fire-Places — Reconnaissance — A Ducking —
Pohick Church — A Camp Union Menu —
Leave of Absence 101

CHAPTER XI.

Return to the Army — Takes his Son into the
Field — Quarters in an Old Confederate Camp —
Before Yorktown— McClellan's " Delay" 116

CHAPTER XII.

Anxieties and Cares — Camp Breakfast; Charlie's
Fritters — Questions Answered — Scenes Dur-
ing and After the Battle of Williamsburg —
Glyndon Missing 126

CHAPTER XIII.

A Boy Surgeon — A "Trivial Incident" and its Re-
sult— "Writing in Camp no Fool of a Trick" —
Dixie^ — N earing Richmond Apace — Ten Miles
from Richmond— McClellan's Plan 142

CHAPTER XIV.
The Surgeon's Field of Glory 157

X CONTENTS.

CHAPTER XV.

PAGE.

Never a Day Too Late — Halleck and McClellan
— Camp Affliction — Wretched Medical Man-
agement 159

CHAPTER XVI.

Doctor Gunn's Arrival in Washington — Home
Again — Horse and Hound 169

CHAPTER XVII.
Death of his Son Glyndon 174

CHAPTER XVIII.

Removal to Chicago — Welcoming Address at
Inauguration of New College Building 178

CHAPTER XIX.

Effects of the Chicago Fire — List of Doctor Gunn's
Writings — Professor J. Adams Allen's Biog-
raphy of Doctor Gunn 200

CHAPTER XX.

Dangerous Illness — Crosses the Ocean with a
tarty of Doctors — Letter from Steamer Gallia —
Queenstown — Cork — Shandon Bells — '- Red
Letter Day at Killarney — Giant's Causeway —
The Highlands of Scotland — London 212

CONTENTS. XI

CHAPTER XXI.

PAGE.

Doctor Gunn's Philosophy — Amsterdam — The
Rhine — Heidelberg — Swiss Letters — Bern and
the Bears — Chamouny — Paris — London —
Home 237

CHAPTER XXII.

OUa Podrida — Editorial Controversies — Dread of
Hyper-Medication 261

CHAPTER XXIII.

OUa Podrida, Continued — Peddlers — Rough Emer-
alds— Tenderness to Children 274

CHAPTER XXIV.

OUa Podrida, Continued — Punctuality — An Ani-
mated Hitching-Post — His Devotion to Astron-
omy 279

CHAPTER XXV.

Our Tour Abroad — The Organ at Bern — Alone in
the Alps— The Rhone Glacier 291

CHAPTER XXVI.

Berlin — Paris — Historical Associations versus
Clothes — Baroness Burdett - Coutts ' "At
Home" 308

XU CONTENTS.

CHAPTER XXVII.

PAGE.

Homeward Bound — The Doctor again in Harness —

Shopping Horrors from his Little Diary 310

CHAPTER XXVIII.

Interest in his Clinics — A Doctor's Anxieties —
Doctor Gunn from a Student's Standpoint —
His Strong Personality 315

CHAPTER XXIX.

A Doctor's Best Road to Success — Philosophy of
Dislocations 326

CHAPTER XXX.

Visit to California — The Beginning of the End —
St. Clair Springs — Doctor Gunn's Last Ill-
ness— Short Convalescence 331

CHAPTER XXXI.

"June," the Doctor's Saddle-Horse — The .Light
Goes Out 337

CHAPTER XXXII.

Letters and Tributes: Prof essor Corydon L. Ford —
Rev. George F. Nelson — Dr. Claudius H.
Mastin — Mrs. Kate H. Lyman — Dr. Roswell
Park— Dr. Henry M. Lyman 341

CONTENTS. Xlll

CHAPTEE XXXIII.

PAGE.

Extracts from Dr. Hyde's Address — Professor
Parkes' Eulogy 356

CHAPTER XXXIV.

Tribute from Eeverend Dr. Clinton Locke 368

A Few Last Words 378

TLLUSTEATIOISrS.

Portrait of Moses Gunn Fronfispiece.

Bonnet Crest xv

Photo-Gravure from Kretschmar's Medallion. 341

INTEODUCTIOK

There is no better way in which to introduce these
sketches than by some quotations from Professor James
Nevins Hyde's Eeport on Necrology, so graphically
written, and published in the Transactions of the Illi-
nois'State Medical Society for 1888.

"Professor Gunn's reputation
as one of the leading surgeons of the country was,
however, largely attained after the establishment of
his connection with Rush Medical College, Chicago,
Illinois. . . . Here he remained actively

engaged in his practice as a surgeon, and in his duties
as a teacher of medicine, up to the time of his death,
which occurred, after an illness of several weeks, on the

fourth of November, 1887

Professor Gunn was granted the degree of Doctor of
Laws, by the University of Chicago, in the year 1877.

"At the date of his death, he was a member of the
American Surgical Association, an original member of
the American Association of Genito-Urinary Surgeons,
and in each capacity a member of the Congress of

XVlll INTRODUCTION.

American Physicians and Surgeons, a member of the
Illinois State Medical Society, of the American Medi-
cal Association, and of the Chicago Medical Society.

"Besides the work required in his college profes-
sorship he served as a surgeon on the active and con-
sulting staff of a number of the public charities of this
city, including the Cook County Hospital, St. Joseph's
Hospital, St. Luke's Hospital, and more particularly
the Presbyterian Hospital, where in later years some
of his most brilliant surgical operations were per-
formed.

"Like most of the truly great surgeons of the civil-
ized world. Professor Gunn won his exalted place in
the ranks of his profession by his success, first, as a
judicious, yet brilliant, always neat, and wonderfully
successful operator; second, by his fame as an oral
teacher of his art. He was indeed a scholarly and
accurate writer, and had composed a systematic treatise
on Surgery which was destroyed in the Great Chicago
Fire.

"But his fame, like that of Velpeau, Nelaton,
Hunter, Parker and Mott, will always rest rather on
what he did with his knife than with his pen. All of
his accomplishments, and they were not a few, were
subordinated to his surgical skill, on which his repu-
tation was firmly based. He was, for a physician, an

INTRODUCTION. XIX

unusually accurate accountant, a good churchman, an
excellent horseman, a lover of the best general litera-
ture, a skillful architect, an amateur astronomer, and a
man of refined tastes in all matters pertaining to art.
But upon none of these subjects did he set his heart
to any extent comparable with the untiring zeal and
zest displayed in the discharge of his professional
duties.

"With the enormous demands upon his time, he
never, when in health, was known to fail to enter his
lecture room at the stroke of the bell, or to be punctual
at the appointed hour for a consultation. The clinical
work he did in public was the chief delight of his life.
There he was truly royal in word and act. His superb
figure and commanding presence in the amphitheatre
are the imperishable souvenirs of thousands of young
medical men, who have learned from his life their first
lesson in practical surgery, and have followed with
their eyes the wonderful play of the instruments in his
hand, guided by an anatomical knowledge that few, as
fully as he, possessed.

"Professor Gunn came thus to be known to the
world at large, as one of the most eminent surgeons
of his day — a man of remarkable presence, of high
moral character, and of the best social position. But
to those who were admitted to share the intimacy of

XX INTRODUCTION.

his friendship, he exhibited qualities which others
often V scarcely suspected. He was in all~these non-
professional relations, found to be singularly modest,
gentle as a woman, light-hearted as a boy, faithful in
his friendships, fixed in an honest hatred of all shams
and pretenders, and exhibiting in every judgment of
his mind a strong common sense that illumined every
dark corner into which he looked.

"Professor Moses Gunn was one of those men who
would have been great in any sphere of life. He was,
viewed from every side, one of the greatest of the great
men whose names the medical profession will always
treasure with gratitude and respect. His memory is
enshrined to-day in that pantheon of honor, where the
most learned of jurists, the ablest ecclesiastics, the
most successful military heroes, and the immortal poets
and artists of America are numbered with its famous
physicians and surgeons."

MEMORIAL SKETCHES

OF

Doctor Moses Gunn.

CHAPTER FIEST.

n^HESE desultory memoirs were begun in those first
^ days of enthusiasm, when as the pages grew under
my hand, I found they were shaping themselves into
something like a domestic romance. And though this
tendency may still in a measure cling to them, I have
as far as possible divested them of their original
character. Knowing that husks only, with a few
approved kernels can be used, and realizing that there
is nothing heroic to relate, according to the world's
idea of heroism (physicians' battles with disease are
seldom recounted), and that my husband's colleagues
and friends have kindly chronicled his professional
accomplishments and many of his manly qualities,
I yet desire to add a few incidents in his life. If
in delineating these my personality has been intruded

^ MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

where it might have been avoided, I hope for a lenient
judgment.

Friday, November 4th, 1887, dates the close of a
useful life; the life of a man whose devotion to his
family and to his profession, services to the world, aid
to suffering humanity, and earnest counsel to those
whom his enthusiasm aroused to nobler effort, must
make his removal keenly felt by all.

To me his loss is irreparable. All I have left is the
rich legacy of his love, my choicest heritage; in that I
live, and if from the garnered recollections of the past,
I can frame a tribute to my husband, it is the only task
that can bring relief or make less insupportable each
day of my life. I think of him in every sleepless hour ;
and in my waking, endless dreams — I dream of him.

If, among the thousands with whom he was con-
nected, there are any who find interest in these pages,
it will repay my days of labor and my nights of tears.
The labor has been no hardship, only an unremitting
struggle lest I should too frequently reveal the under-
current of deeper feeling, or portray too often the
reverse of the picture, showing the trivialities in our
lives.

Moses Gunn was a man who made the world better
for having lived in it. Not that he was more charitable

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. o

or more amiable than his peers. On the contrary, he
had a high-spirited nature, impatient sometimes; but
underlying this, he had great geniality, the highest
sense of honor, the keenest sensibilities, and the liveli-
est sympathies.

He was born in East Bloomfield, New York,
xipril 20tli, 1822 — the youngest of four children. His
father, Linus Gunn, was of Scotch descent; tall and
powerfully built, he was the embodiment of vigor.
Many stories are told of his prowess and endurance;
and the ancient tradition of the universal hospitality of
the Scots seems to have been transmitted to him." His
liberality, his honesty of purpose, and his Christianity,
which consisted not alone of being a zealous member
and supporter of the Church, bore fruit in acts of
benevolence that made him respected and beloved.

His wife, Esther Bronson, was a comely, clever,
thrifty woman, who served as a balance-wheel to keep
in bounds her husband's sometimes ill-advised gener-
osity. She was kind and affectionate, a loving wife
and loving mother; to her he was indebted for the
many comforts ^of his home and for much of his
success.

Their pioneer days were over, their early home
exchanged for one in East Bloomfield. Here they had
settled, and though not exempt from the necessities of

4 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

economy, were, in farmer phrase, "fore-handed," or
well-to-do.

Bloomfield suggests its counterpart in the large cul-
tivated farms, the rich fruitful orchards, broad meadows
and fields of feathery, waving grain, the comfortable
farm-houses — all indicating prosperity.

In the distance were the blue Bristol Hills; those
nearer were covered, in summer, with velvet verdure, in
winter with glistening drifts of snow. The grand old
elms that cast their cool and grateful shadows across
the highway, the school-house, and the mill with its
murmuring, unceasing accompaniment of dam and
stream, completed the summer scene of rural loveliness.

Their house on the main stage-route from Rochester
to Oanandaigua, was known for miles as a convenient
resting-place; even stragglers along the road soon
learned where to ask for food and rest, until the demand
became so great, that a wayfarer's bed was suggested
and finally located in a remote corner of the house and
ever after called "The Beggar's Bed."

Not alone to these mere tramps did their hospitality
extend. It was a delightful place for visiting. Clergy-
men were welcomed and here made a pleasant sojourn,
friends were cordially received and entertained, and
poor relations here found a haven for their woes.

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. O

Thanksgiving was the day for family reunion; from
the aged grandmother, almost ninety, to the j^rattling
child, all were often seated round the same board, where
delicious viands were served to tempt their appetites.

On one of these occasions a little fellow of four or
five, a frequent and favored guest, was overlooked when
some delicacy was ^^ handed roundy Keproachfully
turning to his aunt, he said, "Whatever that was, you
did not pass it to me." Instantly it was placed before
him. But with quaint humor, he said, "O! never mind,
I do not wani it! only I like to have folks 'pass me
fhincjs when I'm around."

The following incident, though trivial in itself, illus-
trates one phase of my husband's boyish character: His
sister (fourteen years older than himself) he almost
idolized, and his youthful fancy endowed her with mar-
velous beauty. When any allusion was made to her ap-
proaching marriage, though she was to live only across
the way, his grief was so intense that he would wander
off alone, lest he should hear their discussion, and
would ponder over, by himself, what appeared to him
the direst of calamities.

AVhen the eventful, but to him distasteful, day
arrived, the wedding breakfast over (it was not called a
breakfast then), and the guests departed, the bridal
pair began preparations for their short trip. With

b MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

jealous eyes he watched them reach their dwelling,
then his plan was made.

Early the next morning he gathered together his
few belongings. Some of these possessions he crammed
into a small hair trunk that he had made for himself;
with this upon his shoulder, two hats upon his head,
and an extra pair of shoes dangling by his side, he
marched across the road, and announced to his aston-
ished sister that "he had come to live ivith herP''

His comical appearance and still more comical
"announcement" was so convulsing, that it almost pre-
vented her, at first, from saying — "That will be very
nice. I have a little room upstairs that will exactly
suit you." The families winked at this droll pro-
ceeding and allowed him to remain. One day, however,
hearing his mother's voice, he thrust his head inside
the door, and called out — "Hello! mother, is that
you?"

"Yes, my son; and how do you think I feel to be
left alone? Is it not bad enough to lose my only
daughter without having my boy go off and leave me
too?"

The pathos of her words and voice brought him to
her side ; still with hesitation and some slight patronage,
he said, "It is pretty bad, and I will go home with

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. <

you to live; but, mother — I want it distincUy under -
stood, that I shall come here once a day to eai!^^

This was too much for their equanimity, but the
compromise was made and the boyish threat carried out
almost literally for years.

His brothers delighted in exciting his childish ire,
sometimes to test his youthful logic. He was tinkering
at some vehicle (he manufactured all his own), when
one of his brothers came along and carelessly asked,
"Why don't you hitch up old Buff and make him
pull?"

"You knoAv the reason, Lou, as well as I do; he is
ioo old:'

The superannuated subject of their debate was
dozing in the sun. Making a stride towards the
unconscious animal, Lou called out, " I am going to
kill this dog! for he is old, and useless, and takes up
too much room."

Listantly the boy was on his feet. With flashing
eyes and quivering voice he cried, " If you are going
to kill everything that's old, you had better go in and
kill your grandmother!''

His father seldom chastised his sons, but Avhen
he did, invariably prayed with them afterwards. The
doctor always said it was hard to tell which he dreaded
most, "the thrashing or the prayer."

» MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

He once said of himself that his youth was re-
markable for nothing but a love of fun and mechanics.

His sister mentions an act of their father's dis-
cipline:— "My brother, when a lad of ten or twelve,
was in the habit of interchanging visits with his
cousins. 'The Gunn boys.' They all anticipated the
greatest pleasure in these visits. One evening when
the boys were going home, Moses gained permission
to walk part of the way back with them, the distance
not being specified. When sufficient time had elapsed,
and he did not return, my mother was fearful lest
something had befallen her boy. You know he was
her Benjamin.

"At last her anxiety became so great, that my father
decided to o^o in search of him. When he arrived at
his brother's, he found the 'young rascal,' as he called
him, in bed with his cousins! He said nothing, but
returned. In the morning, when the small culprit
appeared, he was told that for this misdemeanor he
could not go to his uncle's for one year! At times
this seemed a greater punishment than he could bear."

Fifteen years after this memorable little episode,
the doctor and his Avife were taking tea with these
cousins and their sisters, when she fully realized what
a cruel deprivation his boyish palate must have under-
gone during that long year!

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 9

The doctor's mother Avas a remarkable woman, and
needs more than a passing notice. She lived to the
age of ninety -three, with all her faculties unimpaired.
She survived her husband many years, he (dying at
the age of sixty-seven) leaving her his small estate,
which by her providence she increased, though her
gifts were many and muniiicent. When her children
were young, after attending to her household duties
through the day, she would sit up far into the night,
and while the others slept, accomplish the greater part
of her sewing, which was of no ordinary kind. Two
weeks before her death (it must be remembered she
was then ninety-three), she had been engaged on some
fine needle-work.

After giving up her home she resided with her
daughter living directly opposite. There she found a
melancholy satisfaction in looking over at the house
where, through the lights and shadows, the hospitali-
ties of other days had transpired. One night she saw
this old home burn to the ground.

She spent a part of each alternate year with the
doctor's family, and as a labor of love (after she was
eighty) hemmed and "whipped" many of the fine linen
cambric rufiles he then wore. He told her of an
excitable French patient who said to him one day —

10 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

"Docteur! I shall tear off ze frille, some time, it make
me so exasperate! I nevare get zings don up like zat!"

She was fond of making written extracts from her
Bible. Up to the time of her death, her letters were
written in a clear, neat hand.

Her face, slightly severe, was intelligent, and often
and easily lighted up with a peculiarly humorous smile.
She was of medium height, her form plump and erect,
and her step vigorous. Her clothes fitted her perfectly,
and were of handsome material. She was particular in
her personal appearance and always made a point. of
dressing for dinner. Among other graces she was
wise, never allowing her son to imagine she saw any
shortcomings in her daughter-in-law. She was amiable
— in fact she was exceptional.

This little tribute is due from one who, under all
circumstances, received her warmest affection.

The doctor, averse to his name when a boy, once
asked his mother why she called him "Moses."

"Because, my son," she answered, "it was the name
of your grandfather, — a courteous, amiable old gentle-
man, whom we hoped to have you emulate."

"That is a good reason, but I could just as well
have emulated him — without his name."

He never quite forgave her this infliction, and
never, until maturer years, signed his name in full.

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. ' 11

When writing to his wife, he indulged in a nom de
plume.

The rudiments of Doctor Gunn's education were
begun very early, so early that he was allowed a pillow
in school. He was twelve years old, when a young
theological student became a member of his father's
family, and was his tutor for three years. Then he
entered the East Bloomfield Academy, where he pur-
sued his studies until they were interrupted by a serious
illness followed by prolonged invalidism. During a part
of this time he rode on horseback to the academy, though
a painful side often prevented his riding faster than a
walk. A constant inclination to bend over either when
walking or riding, he fought against, and a supreme
effort of his will alone enabled him to sit upright in his
saddle. His mother watched him with extreme solici-
tude for two years; finally a change of climate and a
sea voyage aided in his recovery.

When on his way to New York, he was informed by
a sympathetic passenger on board the "Packet Boat"
(which was then the popular mode of travel in that
section) that he would die of consumption, in less
than a yeax*.

His sister says: — "After the first winter of my
brother's illness he was always busy binding books or
engaged in some mechanical employment. It was

12 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

during this time he traced the ancestral line in both
his grandfathers' families. "

A few months after his return from the South, he
entered Dr. Carr's office in Canandaigua, as a student of
medicine. He soon became a favorite with Dr. Carr;
close attention to his duties won the doctor's regard,
and he often drove with him on his professional rounds.
His preceptor wore a large, blue camlet cloak, then much
in vogue. One morning as they were starting out on
their expedition a corner of the cloak blew over the
young student's arm. Turning to Dr. Carr, he said: —
" How proud I should be if your mantle could fall upon
my shoulder.'" Looking at him earnestly, his preceptor
replied, " My boy, you will wear a greater mantle than

CHAPTER SECOND.

A N old-time friend, J. S. R , writing about his

-^^ early acquaintance with my husband, refers to
his student-life at that period: —

" I often met Moses Gunn when he was studying
medicine, and a member of Dr. Carr's family. I inva-
riably noticed him intent upon his work; this made a
deep impression upon me. After he had been study-
ing a year, Dr. Carr would frequently take him when
he had a difficult case, and always when he had an
operation. Few physicians outside the cities had a
reputation equal to his, for skillful and successful
operations. He did aearly all the surgery within a
radius of many miles; it was beneficial for your hus-
band to be associated with sucli a man. Yet I recall
a time when, speaking of a certain operation at which
he assisted, he said 'If I ever have a case like that I
shall manage it differently.' The treatment which he
had in mind was radically different from that of his
preceptor. Thus, while he studied, he thought for
himself. Years after, when recalling old times, it

13

14 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

occurred to me to ask him if lie had ever had such a
case. I remember the satisfaction with which he
replied 'Yes, several, and was successful according to
those early convictions. '

"It is not necessary for me to speak of the doctor's
splendid achievements; those you already know. My
only object in writing this brief retrospect, is to make
you better acquainted with the kind of man he was,
before you knew him."

These are the recollections and impressions of one
who knew Doctor Gunn in boyhood, as well as in later
years : —

"When I first entered the family, the doctor was a
boy of eleven. From that time forth, he had the same
lovable nature which characterized his life; ever ready
to contribute to the pleasure of others, or to the relief
of their pain.

"Especially was he endeared to me during the last
illness and at the bedside of my dying husband. .
A student of medicine, he left his books, to devote
himself night and day to the almost entire care of him.

" I can never forget the stay and comfort he was to
me while passing through this, my first great affliction.
No matter how often I disturbed his snatches of

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 15

sleep by day or night, he awoke to my relief with
unabated tenderness. ......

" His purity of character and unselfishness were so
transparent, that I watched his development with in-
terest and affection, and I believe there are few whose
lives, from childhood ouAvard, are kept so free from
stain or blemish.

"I am very glad I was permitted to meet the doc-
tor so recently, by which the sacred memories of the
long ago were revived."

Professor C. L. Ford writes of his early and later
associations with Doctor Gunn: —

"I was a student of Dr. Edson Carr, of Canan-
daigua, N. Y., and after being graduated at Geneva
College, was appointed Demonstrator of Anatomy,
which office I held for several years.

"On my way to and from Geneva, I occasionally
spent a few hours in Canandaigua, and there I first met
your husband, who was then a student of Dr. Carr, as
I had been before. By these occasional interviews, I
became aware of his earnestness in whatever he under-
took, and especially of his enthusiastic devotion to the
study of anatomy.

"In October, 1844, he became a member of the
medical class, and was at once recognized as a man of

16 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

more than ordinary promise. The session passed as do
most college sessions, without any specially exciting or
noteworthy incidents, and he was again energetically at
work as before in Dr. Carr's office. At the opening of
the session of 1845-6, Dr. Gnnn returned and resumed
work as usual. During this session my health was by
no means good, as I had not fully recovered from a
severe pneumonia, and my friend had already obtained
such a knowledge of anatomy and had shown so much
skill in dissecting, and imparting knowledge, that he
became to me a valuable assistant and I often assigned
to him duties that belonged to me. In all these, he
evinced so much aptness and skill in instructing others,
that it foreshadowed his appropriate field of labor as a
future instructor as well as operator.

"During the college session, while mutually engaged
in instructing others, we sometimes, as was very natu-
ral, talked of the future, and built air-castles, as young
men occasionally will do, and even went so far as to
hope that in the not distant future we might be asso-
ciated in some medical college, where he should be
professor of surgery, and I should teach anatomy.

"At the close of the session, the College received
from a prison of the State an unclaimed body, which
was to be devoted to scientific uses; and as we had no
means of preserving it, and no occasion to use it after

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 17

the college was closed. Dr. Gunn was allowed to em-
ploy it for purposes of instruction.

"As an illustration of his enterprise, he received
his diploma on Tuesday, left his home on the Monday
following the day of his graduation, and started for
Michigan; and in two weeks from the day he left, he
had made arrangements, and commenced a course of
lectures on anatomy in Ann Arbor, for which his pre-
vious earnest devotion to dissection had made admir-
able preparation ; and the thorough study he had given
the subject ever after inspired the confidence and self-
reliance, based on accurate knowledge, with which he
undertook formidable operations.

"Here he began his professional life and surgical
career. His facility in lecturing, and his manifest
acquaintance with the subject he had undertaken to
teach, attracted attention and marked him as no ordi-
nary man; and on succeeding seasons he repeated lec-
tures on anatomy, accompanied by dissections and
demonstrations, — the first ever given in Ann Arbor, if
not in Michigan. ....

"In the fall of 1850 Dr. Gunn was duly appointed
Professor of Anatomy and Surgery in the Medical Col-
lege. In 1854 it was deemed desirable that he should
no longer be required to teach anatomy in connection
with surgery, and in June of that year I was appointed

18 - MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

Professor of Anatomy, and our youtliful aspiration was
realized, wherein one taught anatomy and the other
surgery, from that time till he resigned and went to
Chicago; making us co-laborers for thirteen years of
harmonious co-operation and friendly rivalry, as teach-
ers of our respective branches of medical education.

"The doctor and I roomed together in Geneva,
where began a friendship of forty years. He was
always most earnest in whatever he undertook ; no half-
way Avork ever satisfied him. He acted upon the prin-
ciple of doing well whatever was worth commencing,
and he evinced the same energy and enthusiasm as a
student, that characterized all his subsequent career in
active professional life. He was always remarkably
self-reliant and self-respecting, never doing anything
unworthy the man or the occasion, always commanding
the confidence of the public and of professional asso-
ciates. ........

"For four years he taught anatomy and surgery
with a success that placed him at once in the front
rank of teachers. I may say of him he had a 'teaching
diathesis'. He grasped truth clearly, believed it firmly,
and stated it impressively; so that, as has been said,
'with him truth had horns, to lay hold of and to hold on
to. One is sure that he knows it, and is convinced that
he believes it.'

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 19

"Doctor Gunn removed to Detroit that he might
have a larger field for surgical practice, and thus do
greater service to the institution and give to students
the benefits of a wider experience.

"Of those who have aided to make the College what
it has been and what it still remains, who have finished
their course, Moses Gunn I may almost call the pioneer
in all this enterprise.

"His honorable and useful life-work was finished
at the age of sixty-five, after almost forty-two years of
service in his profession." ....

CHAPTER THIRD.

SOON after entering upon his medical studies in Can-
andaigua, Moses Gunn met a young girl whose
home was in that Western town where subsequently he
commenced his professional and matrimonial careers.

She was at Mrs. E 's school in her native state and

was spending her first vacation with relatives. She
says in reference to this time: —

"Though these memories are unimportant, they have
a bearing on this little history, and bring to mind the
old residence, the trees, the well into whose glistening
depths we peered and tried to penetrate ; the bee-hives
we shunned for the garden and orchard less dangerous ;
the in-door and out-door pastimes; the drives about the
country, and horseback-riding, which filled up the
measure of our joys.

"It was a pleasant, hospitable country home; the
house was large; some rooms had corner cupboards
filled with quaint old china and queer souvenirs be-
queathed by an ' Ancient Mariner,' a relative on the
father's side. A venerable clock ticked slowly in the

20

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 21

hall; a corner fire-place disclosed curious andirons sup-
porting grotesque heads that in the flickering flames
appeared to nod, and smile, and silently gossip with
each other. These unique andirons and some other
odd old articles would delight a modern antiquarian.

" Invitations for a party had been sent for twenty
miles around. East Bloomfield was within the limits.
Moses Gunn and a favorite cousin of his own age had
just received and were opening their invitations, when

C exclaimed, ' What luck! I have been on the

qui Vive for weeks to see that cousin of the T s, and

now it is impossible to go. But, Moses, you can find
out if she amounts to anything.'

"A drive of eighteen miles brought 'Moses' to
the spot where he expected to encounter a full-fledged
young woman, instead of which he found a diminutive
specimen of girlhood in short dresses! Astonished,
but determined to fulfil his mission, he approached and
with mock gallantry, offering his arm, said, ' Let us go
out on the porch.' The night was glorious! the moon
was full, and the maiden not too young to take note of
his personality. He had brown, waving hair, a blonde
goatee; was pale, near-sighted, and wore eye-glasses.
His tall, slim figure was rather noticeable, and he talked
well. Some guests from a distance remained all night,
he among them. In the morning he said 'good bye,'

22 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

and his youthful listener of the previous evening
thought of him no more.

"The Sunday following he spent at home. C

came over and began his catechism. M replied,

'Our friends romanced about their cousin simply to
arouse your curiosity. She is only a school-girl, and a
small one at that, but I carried out your enterprise, and
afterward she sang a song; then before the evening
was half over, she ivent to bed! I thought of her once
or twice (after the song), but in the morning she re-
minded me of the L s we neither of us lost our

heads about.'

"The critical young man little dreamed that the
small individual he then discussed would six years later
become his wifeP''

CHAPTER FOURTH.

FIVE years! What sorrow can be crowded into five
years ; and sometimes, what joys ! It was five years
since the student had looked down upon his small com-
panion and criticised her. Since then he had been
graduated with honor and some distinction, and had
(with those memorable trunks, which are hereafter
mentioned) emigrated westward.

In the following personal reminiscences written by
Doctor Gunn forty years later for "The Chronicle," in
1886 (the year before he died), he alludes to this
journey and describes the university town as it then
appeared : —

"It was on one of the bright and beautiful days
with which we were favored in the early part of Febru-
ary, that the writer, in sentimental indulgence, found
himself once more in the beautiful arbor-city of Wash-
tenaw. What memories are awakened by those two
names — Ann Arbor and Washtenaw! Just forty years
before, I had looked for the first time upon the fair

23

24 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

scene which once again greeted my vision. How
changed! and yet the same! Boyhood and ripening
years show the same changes and resemblances. At
that time many of the primitive trees of the aboriginal
oak-openings which captivated the first settlers and
induced them to locate on this spot their romantic town,
still remained to justify the strikingly original name
which they bestowed upon it. A pretty bit of history
is that which originated the town name, and which is
all familiar to Ann Arborans.

"A bleak, uncomfortable and fatiguing winter jour-
ney through Canada by stage-coach — there being no
railroad communication between Buffalo and Detroit —
a three hours' trip in a very primitive car by rail, or,
rather, pieces of old strap-rail, from Detroit, landed me
in Ann Arbor on a day, the mildness and sunny-smoki-
ness of which suggested Indian summer rather than
February. From Ypsilanti, where the railroad strikes
the valley of the Huron, Ave had crept along under the
bluffs, following closely the windings of the river, the
engineers of the road having avoided the building of
bridges, by increasing the distance to be traveled over,
on rails that would have been dangerous had the speed
been greater. 'Ann Ar-r-bor!' called the conductor as
faithfully and impressively as duty required; though
the indefinite rests which were indulged in at stations

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 25

would enable a reporter of the present day to gather or
invent facts enough for a gazetteer item. My objective
point was reached ; and seated in an open ' bus' the hotel
was sought. At the top of the hill which we rise from
the station my attention was arrested by a huge boulder
that reposed just at the fork of the road, and which now
ornaments the college campus and perpetuates the
enterprise of one of the university classes. This
thought-suggestive boulder, which has thus become a
part of the res c/esice of the campus and student life,
has other associations in the memory of the writer,
which ante-date by many years the commencement of
its classic association, but which are too personal to be
more than alluded to in this connection.

"The hotel which opened to me its hospitable doors
was the 'Ann Arbor Exchange,' situated on the south-
west corner of Main and Ann streets, an institution of
very indifferent merits, but with a rather showy bar in
the general office or reception room, at which within a
day or two of my arrival, I saw a gentleman of the bar
legal from Jackson indulging with some of his coiifrdres
in an extremely social glass of something that passed
current for French brandy. Now, this circumstance is
worthy of note only from the fact that the last time I
had seen our hero, he was delivering a most eloquent
temperance lecture down in the Empire State, from

26 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

which he had emigrated, bringing up in the Wolverine
State, and now, to my surprised vision, before another
bar than that for which he had been educated. It was
one of many observations which served to put me
appreciatively abreast the novel phases of Western life ;
for Michigan was then a Western State, and her uni-
versity town was not an intensely temperance one.

"The city — for I believe it had a city organization
— consisted, then as now, of the upper and lower town.
The business portion of the upper town lay principally
on the south and west sides of the Court House
Square, while the residences were scattered somewhat
promiscuously on the northwestern slope of the emi-
nence which is crowned by the University. BetAveen
the university grounds and the first of the residences
quite an unoccupied space intervened, while to the
north, east and south of the campus the eye rested
only on fields or common.

"On the forty acres of the university campus
which, at present, emulates the old town in arbor-
escence, there was scarcely a tree. The north wing of
the present western facade was built, and was devoted
to recitation rooms, dormitories, and a single room each
to library and museum, while in the attic were stored
numerous boxes of cured skins which have since been
mounted and which, probably, are now to be found in

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 27

the museum. The four residences for the use of the
Professors' families were also built, and were occupied
respectively by Professors Williams, Ten Brook, Whee-
don, and Agnew. These four university magnates,
equal in authority, constituted the executive head of
the university. In teaching they were assisted by
Tutor Smith and Dr. Douglas; the latter acting as
instructor in chemistry, Dr. Houghton, late professor
of that branch of science, having lost his life the
previous autumn while prosecuting geological and min-
eralogical surveys at Lake Superior. There is now in
the museum, probably, a specimen of native copper
bearing the marks of his chisel which Professor
Houghton laboriously cut from the, at that time cele-
brated, copper mass which was removed, by the United
States authorities, to Washington in 1844 or 1845.
This valuable specimen cost the efforts of four succes-
sive seasons to secure, the professor having used up
his available chisels for three seasons without success.
Dr. Sager, then a resident of Jackson, was Professor of
Zoology, but was not on duty. Death had already
invaded the professorial ranks, and a broken shaft near
the present location of the Chemical Laboratory com-
memorated the virtues of Professor Whiting.

"I have alluded to Dr. Douglas as instructor in
chemistry. After he became Professor Douglas he

28 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

began to develop his department and j&nally organized
and for many years administered the affairs of a model
practical chemical laboratory. In fact, he was a
pioneer in this kind of work. I therefore hesitate not
to speak of his day of small things. Shortly after my
arrival in Ann Arbor he invited me to be present at
one of his lectures before the senior class. A room
not exceeding sixteen by twenty feet served him for
both laboratory and auditorium. His illustrative ap-
pliances were remarkable for what they lacked —
nothing more. In no department is the contrast be-
tween 1846 and 1886 more marked than in that of
chemistry.

"The Eegents of the University were, at that time,
appointed by the Governor with the confirmative action
of the Senate. In their selection, party affiliations
were wisely ignored. The Governor, Lieutenant-Gov-
ernor, the Chancellor and the Justices of the Supreme
Court were ex-officio members of the Board of Regents,
the Governor being the presiding ofiicer. Already had
Governors Mason, Woodbridge, Gordon, Barry, and
Felch, the last of whom is yet a venerated resident of
Ann Arbor, filled the chair, while the names and wis-
dom of Farnsworth and Manning had ornamented and
benefited the Regent list. Surely the university had
been fortunate in the character of Its early conservators.

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 29

"But neither the wisdom of the Regents, the zeal
and fidelity of the Faculty, nor the sacredness of the
cause, had saved the infant university from malicious
enmity. Emanating from this source were estimates
showing how much it had cost to educate each of the
ten graduates. The first class of ten had been gradu-
ated the autumn previously (1845), and afforded a
basis for calculation sufficiently plausible for the use of
jealousy and blind opposition. Such opposition was,
of course, unreasoning and unreasonable, and although
the authors have ceased to be remembered, their efforts
were not without influence at the time.

"The aspect of the town, as contemplated from the
present time and status, seems a little grotesque. The
infant university, which now in its vigorous adoles-
cence almost constitutes and sustains the city, was, even
then, a prominent feature in the equally infantile town,
and gave to it the appearance, so to speak, of a college
town in short dresses. The students were, many of
them, poor, but nearly all strove to don the Oxford cap
and sustain college characteristics and dignity before
the village maidens. Thus early the 'college widow'
was recognized; one class had flourished and vanished
from town. As spring ripened into summer the young
collegian would sally forth from his dormitory in the
college building and wend his way to his morning

30 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

repast under the aegis of the square cap; and, occasion-
ally, for comfort or economy's sake, or for both consid-
erations, he would appear clad in a calico morning
gown, in which bright colors and conspicuous figures
reigned predominant. Still the girls admired and
courted the widow's weeds.

^^ Apropos is an anecdote, une vraie, in which fig-
ure the collegian, the possible college-widow, and her
young brother. The student was a member of the first
class, who subsequently attained high official dignity in
a territory which has since become an important state.
He was of eminent social position, bright in intellect,
pleasing in manners, but diminutive in stature. Start-
ing out, on one occasion, to make some formal social
calls he donned a dress hat. Approaching the portals
of a certain residence, he was discovered by Venfant
ierrihle, who, standing at the open window, called back

to his sister: 'O, sister ! here comes Tom C

with a man^s hat on!' Imagination can picture the
vigorous hustling off of young America and the recep-
tion of her visitor by the blushing maiden.

"Junior exhibition was the chief spring event: the
junior hop was not then an institution, though hopping
was a familiar and popular step with the collegian.

"The second annual 'commencement,' occurring in
August, 1846, took place in, or rather under, a huge

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 31

tent, which was pitched on the campus just west of the
present central or chapel building. The exercises were
of the stereotype pattern, and for the town, made it a
gala day. The burlesque programme failed not in its
appearance, nor in its cheapness of strained wit and
pun; nor did professorial dignity fail in its perceptible
annoyance thereat.

"At the annual meeting of the Board of Regents
which occurred at this time Dr. Douglas was made
Professor of Chemistry. It was at this meeting, also,
that the first steps were taken calling into existence
the medical department. A memorial asking for its
establishment was presented and referred to a special
committee which reported in favor of the project a year
or eighteen months subsequently — I think in January,
18J:8. The report was adopted, and the two medical
men, Drs. Sager and Douglas, who already held pro-
fessorships in the university, were made professors in
the new department; and a committee was appointed to
select additional professors.

"The Board had been contemplating for some time
the erection of a chemical laboratory, and now deter-
mined to enlarge the contemplated building in order to
accommodate the medical school. The outcome of this
determination is to be still seen in the Grecian-temple
portion of the present medical building. Professor

32 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

Douglas was the architect and superintendent of con-
struction; and whatever may be thought of its archi-
tecture, or of the general architecture of the University,
it is quite certain that it made a convenient home for
the new school for a number of years.

"In July, 1849, the committee to nominate ad-
ditional professors, named, and the Board appointed
the writer of this paper Professor of Anatomy. Six
months later, viz: in January, 1850, Professor J.
Adams Allen, M.D., who had for two years held a chair
in the La Porte Medical College, and who is now Presi-
dent of Rush Medical College, Chicago, and Samuel
Denton, M.D., a former Regent and State Senator, were
made professors, respectively, of Materia Medica and
Physiology, and of Theory and Practice of Medicine.
At the same time the subject of Surgery was added to
the chair held by the writer. The medical faculty was
thus organized with five professors.

"The primary announcement of a course of instruc-
tion in the new school was issued in May, fixing the
time for the opening of the course on the first of
October, 1850. Thus was inaugurated a new medical
college, with new and comparatively unknown men for
a faculty, three of whom were yet, in medical parlance,
boys, and none of whom could show a gray hair. To
supply this deficient sign of erudition Zina Pitcher,

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 33

M.D., of Detroit, a Kegent of the University and an
ex-officer of the U. S. A., was made an Emeritus
Professor.

"The first medical class numbered ninety-two stu-
dents,— a number, I think, quite unprecedented, at that
time, for the first class, in the history of medical col-
leges. The size of this class exerted an amusing influ-
ence, for one year at least, on the practice of hazing.
A mild form of hazing had been in vogue which con-
sisted of the initiation of the freshmen by the sopho-
mores into the 'Bumptonian Society.' The department
of Arts and Science had opened early in September.
The sophomore class had lost in numbers while the
freshmen were unusually numerous. Under such cir-
cumstances, the Sophs, hesitated in opening the cam-
paign. Finally, deeming 'discretion the better part of
valor,' they effected a compromise, whereby the Fresh,
were to enjoy immunity on condition that they would
join the Sophs, in the initiation of the expected Medics.
Exultingly the confederated Lits. awaited the advent of
the poor Medics. But when on their arrival it was
discovered that they outnumbered all four classes on
the other side of the campus, and that among their
number were many stalwart and matured men, more
remarkable for physical development than for refine-
ment of face and manners, consternation seized the

34 MEMOKIAL SKETCHES.

confederates, and there ensued a status, described in
later times as 'all quiet on the Potomac' All was quiet
on the campus. The 'Bumptonian Society' ceased to
exist and was heard of no more.

"The medical readers of 'The Chronicle' will, I feel
sure, be interested in, and others will pardon a few
additional observations upon this department. Its open-
ing session had closed upon a remarkable success; the
faculty were egotistic enough to regard it as even brill-
iant, and from that egotism sprang an ambition to
gain for the college a position in the foremost rank.
The eminent men who were subsequently added to the
faculty brought to their work the same ambition and
energy backed by recognized ability. The writer looks
back with the greatest pride and pleasure upon the
seventeen years during which he labored in the Univer-
sity, and experiences the satisfaction of knowing that
the ambition of the faculty had been realized before he
severed his connection with his colleagues and the
University. The last course of lectures which he gave
in Ann Arbor was to the largest class assembled, that
year, in the United States, viz: five hundred and twen-
ty-five students.

"Though nineteen years have passed since the ties
were severed which bound him to the university of
Michigan, his affection for the institution and his old

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 35

colleagues remains ever green. Even to the body of
professors and instructors who have, since that time,
become attached to the university, he feels in a
measure related."

CHAPTER FIFTH.

TAOCTOE GUNN, learning that a university was es-
^ tablishecl at Ann Arbor, knew that ultimately the
departments of Medicine and Law would be inaugurated.
He came, as he and others have mentioned, and was in-
strumental in organizing that department where, later,
as Dr. Ford says, " Their youthful aspirations were
realized, wherein one taught anatomy and the other
surgery."

Almost immediately upon the doctor's advent to
this "infantile town" he met the girl who had been the
subject of his five-years-before adverse criticism. A
month later he gave her a problem which required more
ihan a year for her to* solve. During this time of
probation his practice increased, his knowledge of the
German language brought him a German patronage,
his manhood's struggle had commenced, and some of
his ambitions were beginning to be realized.

The young physician named his first horse " Satan,"
for iniquities that came to light after he had bought

36

MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

37

him. He needed a strong horse; this one looked not
only strong, but reliable, and his purchaser made no
inquiry into his character. The beast's trangressions
were chiefly committed in the stable, except on rare
occasions when he would go through his programme in
the harness.

I had just returned from an absence of five months,
when on a cold, crisp, sunny day, the young doctor
asked me to drive with him. He wore a light drab
overcoat, becoming because it made him look stouter.
I never afterwards refused to go anytvhere with him
when he wore fhat coat! "Satan," with the subtlety of
his namesake, divined this to be a " rare occasion."
With a vicious shake of his head he started on a keen
jump, and never stopped till he reached the brow of a
high hill, some two miles distant from the town. Here
he paused — just long enough to tower on his hind legs
(I thought he would sit upon us) ; but gathering him-
self, he plunged down what seemed to me a precipice,
and when fairly at the bottom, with dextrous agility
shivered the dash-board into a hundred splinters! At
this climax the young Esculapius looked for me — I had
slipped Old behind! Shortly after this exciting drive,
"Satan" was presented to some one who could better
appreciate all his unusual eccentricities.

38 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

"Bishop," "Satan's" successor, was a reliable, hand-
some chestnut who was never known to commit the
slighest indiscretion. He was speedy and untiring in
his long drives into the country, several of which were
famous.

O'Brien, a bright young Irish student or physician
I don't remember which, often drove with Doctor Gunn
on his rounds. One morning, by appointment, O'Brien
was to call for him at the church. It was just before
Christmas, when the young people were especially
devoted to St. Andrew's. Evergreens with their spicy
fragrance filled the aisles. All the girls were there
with one or two exceptions, wearing old party gloves to
protect their fingers while they religiously fashioned
their emblems and at the same time carried on their
small but interesting flirtations. He came — his eye
scanned each separate group even to a remote corner of
the church, where two more zealous at their task were
seated beneath a pine that seemed to be growing for
their benefit. Not finding the one he sought, but who
lived near, he turned his steps toward her home. An
hour later he saw Bishop passing, and stepping out
hailed O'Brien, who, taking in the situation, accosted
him: "Ah, Doctor, I see ye are at yer devotions!"
After returning from the country, when nearing the

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 39

office, O'Brien asked, quizzically, "Now, Doctor, shall
I take ye hack to yer devotions? for sure —

" 'Love is like a dizziness:
It winna let a body
Gang aboot his bizziness.' "

CHAPTER SIXTH.

TAOCTOK GUNN was twenty-five! we had been mar-
^ ried three weeks ! when one night he was called up
in haste. I had never taken kindly to the profession,
but my antagonism was then in its infancy. There was
some small excuse for timidity, ours being the only
sleeping-room on the first floor. Making his prepara-
tions to go out, I dolefully inquired, ''Doctor, are you
really going?" "Going?" he reiterated, and looked as
any impecunious young doctor might look at the wife
whom, wisely or unwisely, he had taken to support.
With a few reassuring words, and saying that he would
be back soon in all probability, I relented, but called
out after him: "Eemember, I shall not sleep one icink
until you return."

He said: — "This was my first experience, and on the
whole my best. I hurried to my patient, was not
detained, prescribed, and was back in less than an hour.
With winged feet I flew to my sleepless wife, with
eager hand unlocked the door, crossed the hall, and
approached our room. I had endowed her with every

40

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 41

feminine attribute ; but, ye gods ! what sound was that ?
Oblivious to me, to her bugbear, and to her fears,
snored my unconscious wife. Yes, actually snored!
in the face of her last promise. Ignored, so soon! I
bee:an to think I was not of much account after all.
Then I reasoned: It is better thus, she has learned her
first lesson (I hope the others will come as easy) ; but
O ! false delusion, this was the first nap and the last she
ever indulged in when I was out at night on profes-
sional business."

Doctor Gunn concluded, before entering upon his
service in the University, to spend the winter of 1849-
50 in New York, Philadelphia and Boston, visiting
the hospitals and schools. We were then at the
"Franklin," which had gone through many metamor-
phoses, but the rooms en suite were desirable and were
furnished according to the plethoric or attenuated
purses of their occupants; giving to them an individu-
ality and a home-like appearance.

My husband's practice, though not large, was very
laborious; the long drives over execrable country roads
made it fatiguing. He had some prominent patrons
among the town's people, and others that were not so
prominent, but his most lucrative practice was among
the Germans. His tastes were extravagant, but he ab-
horred debt, and rather than incur one, would undergo

42 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

privation. As an illustration: When first we went to
housekeeping, he sold his watch, bought another less
expensive, and with the surplus purchased a desired
piece of furniture. He was not, however, an adept
in commercial enterprises. If he wanted an article he
was ready to pay its full value, or, his friends said,
usually "a little more."

Doctor Gunn's mother once asked a nephew how
her son was doing. "O! he is doing well; don't trouble

about him. You know, Aunt G , the doctor never

pays a dollar for anything if he can get it for a dollar
and a halfP^

The doctor told Avith amusement an incident of a
rich old Irish farmer who never paid a doctor's bill if
he could help it. He held the Irishman's note, but
said there was little prospect of ever holding his money.
After a year or more he turned the note over to a sharp
business firm. When their collector presented the
note, O'Connor said: "Sure, an I'll not pay that!"

Being informed that the note was held by the M s,

he shouted: "Is thim the divils? Troth, thin, I may
as well be afther pay in yez."

Leaving for the East a few weeks in advance of my
husband, his letters will give a glimpse of his daily
proceedings for the next few months.

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 43

"Ann Arbor, September 26th, 1849.

"I have just returned from the country, driven to
the postoffice, found your letter, read it twice, and am
seated to respond to its contents. The day after you
left I went to Lima, from there to Portage Lake, into
Livingston county, and home by the way of Hamburg.
I arrived at six, but avoided my rooms on account of
the loneliness. .....

"On Tuesday C. L returned and remained until

Thursday, when F came, and they both went home

together. Fenton has been nominated for lieutenant-
governor. While they were waiting for their carriage
to come round, I said, 'Come, let us go up to my room.'

F replied, ' Is not your wife gone ? ' Upon being

answered in the affirmative, 'Well, then, what is there
to go up for?' .....

^^ Afternoon, Five O'clock. — I had written thus far
when called away, and have been driving all the after-
noon. . , .1 am tired and chilled but must
say a few words and mail this letter to-night. I am
sitting at the dressing-table, shorn now of everything
except 'Jules Haules,' the only object between me and
the glass from which is reflected your lone lord, red
whiskers and all. The rooms look so desolate that I
don't know how I shall manage for the next six
weeks." .....

44 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

"Ann Arbor, September SOth, 1849.
"I have abstracted this sheet from your portfolio;
therefore the blot with which it is embellished is prob-
ably your own — so much by way of apology for its
presence. It is Sunday evening, and a cold, wet, mel-
ancholy day it has been. Mr. Taylor is ill, and instead
of his ministering to me and others of his church, I
have ministered to him.

" Thursday Morning, Eleven O^ clock. — Yesterday I
came from the country at eleven o'clock, found your
letter, read it and was prepared to answer it when a
man made his appearance for me to go into the country

to one of those cases, which if I could I would

forever foreswear. I went, and returned at half-past
two this morning — fourteen hours!! Owing to this, I
was unable to send you a letter by return mail, but I
could not avoid it. If there is anything I hate, it is one
of these cases.

"I shall be very busy until the first of November;
shall not get away, perhaps, before the tenth.
Knowing your fondness for details, I shall commence
a history of my daily thoughts and doings, that on the
arrival of your letter, I can send you a long one in
return." .....

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 45

"Ann Arbor, Ocfoher 5ih, 1849.
"Agreeable to my promise yesterday, I begin my
journal.

"Last evening was spent in Mrs. D 's room

playing euchre with Mrs. D , Mrs. P and Mr.

A . You know I am not fond of playing, but

euchre is my fate, or to be left to my own forlorn
society.

"The other evening in W 's store, talking with

a circle of men, the conversation turned upon a certain

charity. B , with plenty of means, is not much of

a favorite ; he proposed giving two barrels of flour ! I

offered my services. B , evidently considering this

a small contribution, inquired, 'About how much,
doctor, do you consider your services worth ? ' ' O, not
much; possibly about as much as your flour !^

"Do you recollect the darkey who did some work
for us and took such a fancy to you ? (all the darkies do).

Well, while I was in W 's store this evening he

came in. I noticed that one of his hands was deformed.
I asked him to let me look at it. As he showed it to
me, he said, 'Doctor, you have seen it a hundred times
befo' ! Why, I knowed you, and you' father, and all the
folks in Bloomfield. I was mos' suah it was you the
fus' time I heerd you' name ' He was raised in Can-

46 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

andaigua, knew every one there, was very talkative, and
wanted to know all about 'How de young missus was.'

^^ Sunday Morning. — It is cold, and continues to
rain, and with the wind in the north-west is drear and
horrible as you can imagine. The quicker I get out of

these rooms and let Mrs. D have them the better.

M about once a week sweeps and dusts, then

arranges the chairs, all in a row, round the room. I
come in and scatter them about in double-quick time,
but they never look right. I am growing unfriendly
to the surroundings and shall vacate the rooms without

much regret, leaving Mrs. D to get all the pleasure

out of them she can. .....

"To-day has been miserably wet and unpleasant. I
have been ten miles into the country this afternoon.
During these drives I ponder a good deal over the
future. ... I have an invitation to Mrs.

M 's to night, but do not intend to go. The H s

expect me to dine there every Sunday, which I cannot.
I forgot to mention dining there the first Sunday after
you left.

^^Safui'day Evening, — Again I am seated in my dis-
mal room, while you are wondering why you received
no letter from me to-day. . . . This

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 47

moment that I have begun writing, I am summoned
away. .....

^^ Sunday Evening. — I promised to call at J. P 's

to-night. It is now ten o'clock, and another evening has

been whiled away. When leaving, H handed me

this parody to send to you. I affix it to the sheet; the
last stanza strikes me as particularly apropos ^ .

''Monday Noon. — Your two sorrowful letters have
come, and I stop in the midst of moving to close this
and dispatch it to your comfort. Only one night more
in the dreary old rooms ! Everything is out of the par-
lor, and nearly everything out of the sleeping room.
I shall start just as soon as I can
deposit my vote in the ballot-box, which will be four
weeks from Tuesday."

"Ann Arbor, Ocioher 9fh, 1849.
"It is just after dinner, Tuesday. I have every-
thing arranged, and stored away. Mrs. D is now

moving down. She occupies C s parlor for a day

or two, and has ordered a fire made and has just told
me to go in and make myself comfortable. I have
done so, and finding pens and paper on the table, have
appropriated a sheet, on which I begin a letter to you.

48 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

'"Time seems to creep as decrepit with age,' when
I think of the time set for my departure. .

" Wednesday. — I am only half recovered from a
cold, taken while engaged in that laudable enterprise
of moving, which needs your commendation.

"To-day is the beginning of the fair; the town is
full of the queerest specimens of humanity that ever
took premiums at any fair! I have been out on busi-
ness, in the mud and wet, through it all, when I ought
to have been at home.

^^ Thursday Evening. — By another miserable mis-
take of the Detroit postmaster, our mail was sent on to
Battle Creek, while we received theirs. I am a little
better of the cold, but have a voice like a young bull.
I should like to establish a momentary telegraph
between us. Friday and Saturday's mails bring no
letter from you. AVhat can it mean? To-day is the
eleventh; only twenty days more, before I hope to join
you. Business is about over, and nothing but collec-
tions shall detain me. Mrs. D has just told me

she wished I had my old rooms back again, for she
might as well try to sleep in bedlam as in rooms so
near the dining-room." . . .

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 49

"Ann Arboe, Odoher 14fh, 1849.

"It is Sunday morning, I have no country patients,
and my village business is finished for the day, unless
something new comes up. It is a beautiful morning,
and so unlike any we have had for the last two or three
weeks, that it is indeed a novelty. Next Thursday

evening is disposed of. I am going to the E s to

dinner. .....

''Sunday, Nine P. M., Odoher 21st, 1849.— 1 have
just finished a very interesting picture founded on
the history of Chillon and the long captivity of the
unfortunate Bonnivard in its dungeons. Thus I man-
age to while away the time. During the week, I am
able to get along quite comfortably till evening; then
I find it impossible to keep myself from sinking into a
melancholy musing, and dwell on thoughts sometimes,
I could hardly write to you. ....

"My patrons seem to take an interest in my plans
for the coming winter and exert themselves to help me
off. My good German friends come up to the mark and
pay the money on bills of from fifteen to twenty-five
dollars less than two months old. I am often surprised
at the cheerfulness with which they acknowledge and
liquidate their indebtedness. Governor Teuton sent a
man from Flint to consult me in a case of surgery
which will lead to an operation.

50 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

'•^Friday Evening. — Nothing can exceed the dull-
ness which surrounds me. I meditate on my approach-
ing escape, and count the days before leaving.
To-morrow, I have to go to Hamburg, a consultation
case. In eight days I start for New York.

^^ Saturday Evening, Ocfoher 27ih. — I leave next
Thursday, and this will hardly reach you in time to
announce my coming. I am very tired to-night, hav-
ing ridden from here to Hamburg and back over the
worst kind of roads." .....

Doctor Gunn arrived in Bloomfield, according to his
date, remained a few days, and then went on to New
York, where he writes from the Irving House, on
November 28th:

"The loneliness I felt at our dear old Ann Arbor,
after you left, was nothing compared to this I now feel
in this bedlam city. . . .To begin back.

I had a cold, unpleasant ride to Vienna. When I
arrived at Geneva, amused myself by going up to the
College and calling upon Dr. Hoadley. The evening
dragged until nine o'clock, when I sought refuge in my
almost never-failing friend Morpheus. I was called in
the morning, to take the boat at six. The trip up the
lake compensated in a measure for the wretched staging

i

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 51

from the head of the lake to Elmira. We were till
half past four, making the distance from Elmira,
twenty-two miles. The wild scenery of the Delaware,
through which the Erie railroad passes, is not unlike
the Mohawk at Little Falls. We arrived this evening,
and New York is noisier and more like Babel than
ever. The whole day I have run and run, until my
feet ache with pressing the pavement, the hardness of
which is only exceeded by the flint-like expression of
the countenances of the Gothamites.

"It is six o'clock, the house is full, but I feel entire-
ly alone. ... I will find your friends
the D s to-morrow. " .

"Irving House, New York,
''November 29th, 1849.

"I w^rote you last night out of the fullness of my
heart, and to-night, my heart feels about as full as it
did last night. . . . One little bright
spot is the recollection of my call at D s.

"There are many pleasures and conveniences in this
city, and there are also many drawbacks. With my
present feeling, any desirable inland town suits my
ideas of comfort better than New York ever could.
For two or three days past, Broadway, from its begin-
ning to its end, has been one puddle of mud! Thirty

52 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

thousand people who are constantly threading this great
thoroughfare keep the pavements covered with mud an
inch deep, about the consistency of thick cream, and
on the cress walks, about as thick again. When
crowded with carts, omnibuses and carriages, if you
wish to cross from one side of the street to the other,
you must run the gauntlet of the numerous vehicles,
with other pedestrians like yourself. If you escape
without being knocked down, you are fortunate. This
is no exaggeration, if one wishes to cross Broadway at
any time, or at any point between the park and Wall
street.

"This is the unpleasant side of the picture. But
now take the glowing evening view of Broadway on a
fine dry night when the magnificent and varied display
in the shop windows bursts upon the sight almost like
the magical changes of stage scenery. The prodigal
expenditure of money to unfold nearly everything of
which the brain can conceive, is used to engage the
attention of the passer-by. You meet the same vast
multitude, ever busy, ever changing, and over the
whole are thrown the brilliant gas-jets of the streets and
stores ; you move along in the throng with the thunder-
ing of omnibuses on the one side and the brightly
lighted shops upon the other. The large glass fronts
expose to view the illuminated interior, the marble

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 53

floor, the carved and gilt tables ; while above and upon
the sides are tastefully arranged the costly wares.
Here is a gentleman's furnishing establishment with
ten thousand fancy articles; next comes a dry goods
house of bewildering attractions in silks, laces, velvets,
and gorgeous imported costumes to rivet the attention.
A glance shows how one would like to linger and
partake. Contiguous to this is a jewelry house where
beautiful designs and novelties gleam entrancingly on
the view. Then the druggist's display of fancy jars
and glass, in variegated array. But I will go no
further in the category.

"Now let us revert to the darker side of the picture.
The evening is bitterly cold. You are passing the
'Astor,' with its shops as alluringly bright as those
already described above; the windows of splendidly
furnished apartments are sending forth rays of
dazzling light, exposing borders of rich drapery, while
in others through a filmy web of lace the soft light
gleams. All is gay and bright within. We turn a
corner just outside of all this luxury. Sitting upon an
old stool, beside an old table, beneath the glimmering
street-lamp, is the venerable vender of her daily and
nightly wares. She, poorly clad, shivering with cold,
waits for some one to buy, — it may be to feed some
starving ones at home. Here a little fellow, young in

54 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

years, but old in sin, with scarcely clotlies to hide his
nakedness, shakes a paper in your face, crying lustily,
'Evening Express! third edition! great mob in Boston!'
when it contains no such announcement. There sits a
miserable mendicant holding out his hand for a penny.
Farther on you are met by an apology of womankind
with a little aboriion, almost, in her arms, who, while
she begs, if you would stop to listen, tells a story of
distress that would sicken you to the heart. You can't
imagine the tenth part of the misery in this city;
much is real, and some, of course, is feigned.

^''Sunday Afternoon. — I have not seen a pleasant
Sunday since I came to New York. If you arrive in
Bloomfield by the 25tli, I will direct my next to Cen-
terfield."

This was the nearest point for receiving and post-
ing our letters. An old red brick house which had
once flourished as a country inn, bore over its door the
magic word, Post Office. Always, when driving
through Centerfield, to and from Canandaigua, I felt
impelled to stop and inquire for some impossible
letter.

memorial sketches. 55

"Irving House, New York,
''December Sfh, 1849.

"You were right in saying my first day in New York
would be my loneliest. My time is more occcupied,
yet it sometimes drags heavily. I contemplate an
alteration in my projects which may enable me to
finish in Canandaigua, what I have begun here.

" I found my old friend Thomas Rochester. He
lives on Houston street. Yesterday, going up Broad-
way, I met T ; he is at the Theological Seminary.

There is now in New York a member of every class
that has been graduated at the University. This morn-
ing on the Ferry I met J. W ; was introduced, and

then gave him your Uncle Yan D 's letter of intro-
duction. He is a very elegant man. I frequently pass

your Uncle A. L. J 's office, but shall not present

my letter to your eminent relative until I return from
Philadelphia. .......

"I have just learned that my brother, who has been
a year in Buenos Ayres, had a very tedious time in
getting to California. They Avere blown three thou-
sand miles off their course, off the Horn, and during the
gale the first mate was blown overboard and lost! For
two days the ship lay on her beam-ends, and no one
thought she would right up again ; but finally she did,
and then had six feet of water in her hold !" .

56 memorial sketches.

"Irving House, New York,
'' December 22nd, 1849.

"It is too rainy to be out as much as my business
demands. I have just come in, and after reading some
of tlie Detroit papers in the reading-room, have seated
myself at the public writing-table to begin a letter to
you. Yesterday was bright, clear, and not cold. I
went to GreenAvood; saw many fine things, and as many
that were ridiculous — every variety of taste, and every
way of its exhibition. .....

"There is a new comic pantomime, by the Eavels,
just out at Niblo's — the scenery new, made expressly for
them, and said to be gorgeous. I have not yet been to
the theatre, but shall go next week.

"I attended Grace church this morning; sat with

J. W . He is a very polished man, and very polite

to me, and I like him. I had a letter from Dr. Carr
yesterday, in which he expresses great satisfaction
at the prospect of my coming there to make the prepa-
rations. He is a trump, and the ace at that. I have
made some very pleasant acquaintances in the profes-
sion, here in New York, some capital fellows. Will
tell you more when I see you." ....

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 57

"New York, January 6th, 1850.

"Yesterday I spent at Blackwell's Island at the peni-
tentiary hospital; dined with Dr. Kelly, the physician
to the Island. The hospital is filled, principally, with
those abandoned creatures who are victims of their own
folly, and if the poor outcasts on the brink of destruc-
tion could see half of what is to be seen there in that
hospital they would stay their downward career and
starve rather than anticipate such an end; and if men
who forget the laws of nature and of God, and tram-
ple them under foot, could see such convincing proof
as is to be seen in the male wards of that hospital, that
' the way of the transgressor is hard,' self-preserva-
tion, if nothing else, would make them alter their
course. .......

" I shall go to Philadelphia on Tuesday. Direct
your next to the 'Columbia Hotel,' Chestnut street.
There is a mighty sight of humbug going on here.
The power of humbugging is as good as a fortune here
in New York. I shall stop at the ' Astor' on my return,
before going to Boston; direct your other letters there.

"I called, last week, upon my old friend Dr.
Eochester and found him with the badges of mourning
for his brother, who had just died in California. It
was the brother who was graduated with him at Geneva
College, the commencement you were there ; you must

58 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

remember them both. How much sad news of this
kind comes with every steamer, and yet the half is not
told!

'' "Write by return mail, and send H to Center-
field with your letter. I have a pocketful of letters to
Philadelphia men which I think I shall use." .

"Philadelphia, January 10th, 1850.

"Here I am in Philadelphia, in a medical point of
view, the Paris of this country. There is a medical
atmosphere here that is really refreshing. If you were
here you would enjoy it as much as I do.
There are now in this city some twelve hundred medi-
cal students in attendance upon the different medical
colleges. One thousand of them are members of two
of the schools, so that the professors of each of these
two schools lecture to classes of five hundred.

" The politeness of the faculty here is unsurpassed.
To give you an example. I arrived Tuesday evening at
nine o'clock. I had some half-dozen letters to the most
eminent men in the profession. Yesterday (Wednes-
day) morning, I called at one of the colleges and found
that there was no lecture until twelve o'clock. Then I
went to Dr. Meigs' residence and handed him my
letter. He was just going out on his morning expedi-
tion and could devote but a few minutes to me then,

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 59

but said: 'To-day my children come home to a family
dinner. You must come and dine with me.' I went,
had a fine dinner, met a son and his wife, and a daugh-
ter and her husband, a Mr. Biddle, a cousin of Major
Biddle of Detroit.

" Before going there I visited the hospital, and at
one o'clock went to hear Professor Pancoast. I had a
letter to him. On presenting it, he was very cordial
and asked immediately if I had a wife with me; said
Mrs. Pancoast had some friends engaged for the even-
ing and I must certainly join them.
On my return I found a note from Dr. Neill inviting
me to a medical club at his house to-night.

" This morning presented my letter to Dr. Muter,
Professor of Surgery, and from him received another
invitation to a party at his house to-night, also a medi-
cal party. I am going to both. Professor Horner of
the other school said he considered me engaged to him
for Saturday night to attend a Wister party. These
had their origin in, and were named for Dr. Wister,
Professor of Anatomy in the University of Pennsyl-
vania. You see the M.Ds. of this City of Brotherly
Love have a kind of hospitality peculiarly their own.
Dr. Pancoast came to me last evening and regretted
that Mrs. Gunn was not present.

"The New Yorkers have a good deal of suavity, but

60 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

the politeness of the Philadelphia doctors is extended
in the way of generous hospitality, and almost every
member of the profession that I have met seems to be
imbued with the same disposition. As I said before,
Philadelphia contains a medical atmosphere that is most
refreshing, and if you could see the way the doctors do
it up here, you would admire the profession more than
you now do."

"AsTOE House, New York,
^''January 15ih, 1850.
" I came here from Philadelphia this morning and
found your two letters which arrived last evening. I
find this a more central point for doing business in the
shortest possible time, and as I have only a few days
more, am hurrying with all possible expedition. I shall
leave for Boston on Thursday and hope to receive a
letter from you there. Direct to the ' Tremont.' Do
not disappoint me: you will have no more letters to
write after that. . . . You may look for
me by the 26th."

1

CHAPTER SEVENTH.

TT was perhaps a year after the doctor's return from
^ the East, that he purchased a roomy house nearly
completed. It was on a corner, as were those he sub-
sequently owned. The long pillars in front suggested
a style of Grecian architecture now almost obsolete.
There remained one thing for the doctor to plan: an
outlook from the roof, enclosed by a railing; which if
it did not beautify the house, afforded a view of the
country, the Lower Town, and the valley where the
Huron flowed.

All our energies and aspirations were centered in
this new home. A house is a woman's universe; a
small world of glories, struggles, and semi-tragic com-
edies which the graphic pen of Jane Carlyle so delight-
fully reveals. It was more than forty years ago the
doctor squandered some of his mechanical ingenuity on
household adornment. There were two chairs that
derived their prestige from his cleverness in upholster-
ing ; none since have ever seemed half so beautiful.

61

62 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

He would say, "My wife is in her element if she
can inveigle me into attempting some almost utter im-
possibility about the house. She has great faith in my
creative powers, and watches with interest (she says)
'the deftness of my execution'. She is remarkably
amiable at such times, waits on me, brings me all the
tools, and while I tug, and hammer and pull things into
place, she complacently sits by and holds the tacks!

"On one of these occasions while working on a
bracket my eye-glasses caught and were demolished!
'There is economy for you ! ' I exclaimed. ' I could buy
six such ircips for what one pair of glasses cost'.
Wheedlingly, she replied, 'But, doctor, you know there
is twice as much sentiment when yoii drive in the
nails.'' "

Time for hanging pictures came, and with them
came the tug of Avar; the doctor was tall and I was
short; what looked well to him never looked right to
me. At last, losing his amiability, he declared, "These
pictures will be the death of me. You must get

A to help you; perhaps you can make him do the

impossible which you require of me."

Years after this, at Christmas, I began giving him
presents for the house; an economical practice some-
times indulged in by those who are not impecunious.

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 63

He forestalled further repetitions by relating an anec-
dote (he usually had one ready) of a woman who
"adored" her husband, but at Christmas gave him
hyic-a-hrac or other things she desired for herself.
For years Mr. T had been the unappreciative re-
cipient of these favors; at last he determined to turn
the tables.

On this occasion his wife -had presented him with a
rocking-chair, — not a large one in which he could re-
cline, but a small sewing-chair! If he had ever felt
a twinge of compunction, he did not now. Taking
from a closet near, a long, narrow case, that baffled
recognition, he crossed the room and with great em-
pressemeni handed it to her. With delight she cried,
"What is this costly, curious thing?" with eager hands
unlocked the case, and — gasped — "J. slioi gim! "

This sagacious hint from the doctor secured to him
ever after (from his wife) personal and expensive
presents — which he paid for.

The doctor's voice in earnest conversation often
became very emphatic. A maid who for some unex-
plainable reason was quite attached to me, hearing one
day his "earnest tones" as he himself called them,
turned to my mother with an anxious whisper, "Listen,
ma'am; can it be that the doctor is scolding Mrs.

64 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

Gunn?'^ But even this speculative joke failed to keep
his voice toned down.

He disliked an argument, especially with me, and
had little patience with people who could not "grasp
an idea." With a softening preface would say: "'My
dear, yon should never- fry fo argue, for you have no
logic in your composition; naturally you are bright
but mentally you are indolent; you never like to dig
down to the root of things ; if knowledge could be pain-
lessly injected (hypodermically), no doubt you would
absorb a good deal! but as it is you only know what
sticks to you in spite of yourself. The variety of your
schools — first it was a convent "

"Please don't recapitulate my schools! I am in
one now where I expect to leam more than I was ever
taught in all the others!"

With an arch look, he said, "I hope so." Then
with a half -amused smile, "There is, however, one rare
accomplishment in which you already excel. You
would make a capital cross-questioning lawyer." I was
accustomed to his raillery and deserved nearly all his
good-natured irony, but at this, I gave him a Koland
for his Oliver.

He enjoyed this sharp artillery tongue-practice and
was never happier than when calling out a quick
repartee.

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 65

In 1853 we were living in Detroit, not far from the
beautiful river in whose depths, fourteen years later, a
tragedy was enacted that cast a shadow on our Ha- es.

Besides a general practice, the doctor was obliged
to go twice a week to Ann Arbor to lecture on surgery,
making these days full of arduous labor which required
physical endurance. In his last lecture, just before
dissolving his connection with the university, he told
the students that in order to talk to them he had trav-
eled fifty-six thousand miles, equal to twice around
the globe and three-quarters of the way through it.

In all these years I had not learned to be a philoso-
pher. I had allowed my antagonism to increase and
magnify the small vexations of my husband's profession
until one day I proposed the visionary scheme that he
should study law. ^^ Siudy laiv!^^ he echoed; "what
would become of our children while I studied law?
before I could practice law, we should sfarveT* To this
I had no ready answer. He continued, "How practi-
cal it would be for a man who had lived more than half
his days to commence reading law!^'' Still facetiously:
"I have a Blackstone! I might begin with that, peruse
Chitty for recreation, and so on through the whole
catalogue of light reading ^

Checking his satirical badinage, and regarding me

66 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

with earnestness, he said, " My , be sensible. Do

not for a mere whim urge me to renounce an honorable
profession in which I have some knowledge and some
reputation (though God knows I have enough yet to
learn). My study of medicine and surgery has almost
just begun; there are mines of knowledge to be ex-
plored in science and in medicine that will never be
exhausted until time is no more. Do not deter me ; I
must continue in the profession which I have chosen.
Be patient. If I am prospered, in a few years I will
practice surgery alone.^^

I have heard women say (the men were probably
angels) "My husband never spoke a cross word to me
in his life." My husband's impatient words were few,
but had there been thousands, they would stand as
nought against his acts of nobility,

I have often wondered whether only undisciplined
women are aggrieved when, on the threshold of some
anticipated enjoyment, they are intercepted by a mes-
sage that " Mrs. So-and-So wants the doctor."

It is not much, only a few words, besides it is
your husband's business; but how it does upset one's
equanimity, and if perchance it is a "chronic case"
that one has heard of all one's days, the very name
has power to exasperate. These trifling disappoint-

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 67

ments, and some sleepless nights are the exposition
of our discomforts.

But what are our benefits? It is so agreeable and
convenient to have a doctor of one's own, to rely upon
and to interrogate at will. Surely this is the law of
compensation, but how little do we prize it — how care-
less are we of the hand that shields and brings us all
we have! In one brief hour, it may be gone, and we
be left in isolation and in gloom.

Now, in the retrospection, how gladly would I take
those grievances back again, and in the maturity of my
grief, how infinitesimal they seem!

CHAPTER EIGHTH.

A FTEE residing some years in Detroit, in rented
-^ houses on which the doctor had expended time
and money in alterations, making them convenient for
an office at his residence, a wealthy patron induced
him, not greatly against his own inclination, to take a
large and convenient dwelling, near his own, on Jeffer-
son avenue.

This friend owned the residence, and made liberal
terms, but these seemed formidable considered in con-
nection with the furnishing of so large a house.
However, the matter was discussed and the venture
made. The house was old-fashioned, well finished,
with a large hall opening on a back gallery. A hand-
some dining-room and remarkable cook, were induce-
ments to give occasional dinners and other enter-
tainments which, turned over to this rather wonderful
individual, caused no further anxiety.

Here we lived in comfort and some extravagance,

until the summer of 1861, when my husband purchased

a handsome place more than a mile from the center of

68

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 69

the city. The grounds were embellished with horse-
chestnut trees, their foliage being so luxuriant and
beautiful, that a cousin somewhat given to romance
named it "Chestnut Place." Here we spent many of
our happiest, as well as some of our saddest days.
We were only fairly settled in this second new home
when the doctor decided to go into the army. This
involved change, pecuniary loss, and the breaking up
of our family.

On the First of September, in the Autumn of 1861,
Doctor Gunn joined the Army of the Potomac as
Surgeon to the Michigan Fifth. He found the climate
of Virginia delightful, and the excitement and novelty
attractive. Winter quarters were less agreeable, and
later, the march up the Peninsula became intolerable.
His discomforts, together with the lack of means to
make those under his charge less uncomfortable,
annoyed and distressed him; the climate impaired his
health, and in July, 1862, he resigned.

The following extracts from Doctor Gunn's letters
Avhile in the army may interest some who did not par-
ticipate, and may, perhaps, be of more interest to those
who, as he did, went through the Peninsular campaign
with General McClellan.

70 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

"Camp Kichardson, September 20th, 1861.
^^ Friday Afternoon. — Did I only consult personal
comfort I should pronounce myself a very great fool
for leaving home to become a camp pack-horse for a
thousand men, for such is a surgeon to a regiment in
the field.

"I have twelve in hospital and forty-six in quarters,
for every one of whom I have prescribed this day. Not
a few come with fancied or feigned diseases: the first
low-spirited in consequence of the hardships of a sol-
dier's life; the last, indolent and anxious to shirk duty.
These two classes give great trouble.

" I am now seated in my tent divested of super-
fluous clothing, uncomfortably hot and thirsty ; how I
should like a goblet of iced Detroit river water !

"Our camp is well situated as regards ground, with
the Potomac sweeping around at a distance of three
miles on the north and two on the east. In sight,
three-quarters of a mile south-east of us, on a high hill,
is Fort Richardson, a work of great importance, now in
process of construction. West of us, three miles
distant, is Munson's Hill, occupied by the enemy,
on which they have erected important fortifications.
The Michigan Second and Third are encamped three-
quarters of a mile east of us, and all around, on the

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 71

north-west, north, north-east, east, and south-east are
encamped an immense number of regiments.

" The forests are levelled to the ground in some
instances, and even orchards, in others. A part of our
camp is located upon ground where was, a month or two
since, a fine young orchard; at the edge of my tent is
the stump of a young apple tree, the brush of which
had to be removed for its erection.

"Such, however, is war! From its horrors, let us
pray for deliverance. When or where an engagement
will occur it is impossible to say ; many predict an early
one. Both parties probably will be somewhat wary and
avoid coming together unless with an advantage real or
supposed. When the engagement does occur, it may
be the result, to a certain extent, of accident.

"We shall change quarters to-morrow; that is,
our mess will, the colonel making his head-quarters in
a large, double three-story house, in a sightly place
close by, vacated by the owner, gone South. The first
night on this side of the Potomac, I slept in Captaiu
Whipple's tent at the camp of the Second regiment.

^'Saturday Afternoon, Four O' Clock. — I have had a
hard day; my assistant surgeon was ill and the work
nearly all devolved on me. I was constantly busy till
half past twelve, and to-day pulled and hauled until

72 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

your letter was received at four o'clock. I have had
some half dozen interruptions since I commenced
writing, but now a heavy shower has come up and is
pouring down on my tent. The camp which half an
hoar ago was resonant with all varieties of sound, is as
still as a country retreat, the rain having driven all to
their tents. There is a novelty in writing under such
circumstances, though I do not particularly admire the
novelty. As the rain increases a few drops begin to
penetrate the cloth, and fall upon me like mist. I
shall realize my later experience before this letter is
closed, for no mail bag will go to Washington before
Monday."

'•''Evening. — It continues to rain, and blows con-
siderably, and I am experiencing all the wet realities of
camp in a rain-storm. My buffalo robe makes a
capital bed, and gives an air of comfort to my tent.
The rain has prevented moving into the house, and I
must spend the night here. I have just been called
out to the hospital to see a very sick man. My heart
bleeds for the poor fellows who fall ill under such
circumstances, lying on the floor with a little straw
interposed between it and their blankets.

"This war is bad enough on the poor soldiers. God
send us a speedy deliverance, is my earnest prayer; but

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 73

here I am cIoTvai in old Virginia, camped out in a
deluge with an enemy determined and strong, close
upon our lines. Our men, many of them, are cool and
expect to meet death. One said to-day he expected to
be killed! if he escaped should be glad of his good
luck. I overheard others say the night we crossed
Long Bridge, ' Well, boys, probably many of us are
crossing this bridge both for the first and the last
time.' Such are some of the reflections that present
themselves to these men." . . .

''^Sunday Evening, Septemher 2 2d. — I have to-day
moved over to our head-quarters. From the housetop,
with a glass, we see the enemy upon their fortifications
on Munson's Hill, three miles west of us. We saw them
walking, color of their uniforms, motion of their limbs,
etc. A number of mounted officers were present.

" The place we occupy is known as Hunter's Chapel
or Hunter's Cross Roads, originally a fine place, but
the trees are now gone, and the house greatly damaged.
A company of the New York Thirty-Seventh, before we
came, nearly ruined the house.

"The colonel inhabits the front sitting-room on one
side of the hall, Ladue the front and I the back-parlor
— folding doors between; Mr. Jacokes, the chaplain,
has the chamber over the colonel's room. We dine in

74 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

the regular dining-room, and 'Cam' has a stall in the
stable and is becoming a great cruiser.

"There are some attractions about this kind of life
which compensate for many of its privations.

"You may remember I told you of the wife of a

lieutenant from S who was going to accompany

the regiment. Well, she proves to be a second cousin
of yours. . . . Her husband, Lieutenant

O. D , a brave, harum-scarum fellow, has been

through the Kansas troubles, was twice shot and now
carries one ball in his leg. She accompanies him
through all these times and is devoted to him."

"Head-quarters, Camp Eichardson,
"Hunter's Chapel, September 23rd, 1861.
^^ Monday Evening, Nine O'clock. — I have just re-
turned from a review of the whole brigade by General
Mc Clellan ; Avas obliged to turn out in full uniform and
take my designated place in the regiment, that place
changing in the various evolutions. Naturally I felt
somewhat awkward, but got through all straight. It
was necessary to don a sword and twice salute the gen-
eral; that too I accomplished without a blunder. Gen-
eral Mc Clellan is quite a young man, and looks not
unlike Degarmo Whiting. He was attended by a large
retinue ; among them. Prince de Joinville and his suite.

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 75

"To-day I met Captain Todd, formerly of the
United States Army. He told me lie had just received
a commission as brigadier-general, and takes command
in south-western Missouri.

"This evening a bright fire burning west of us is
supposed to be a large barn on Munson's Hill, close to
the rebel fort, full of hay, and large stacks of grain
about it. It has been used as a picket stand from
which they shoot at and occasionally wound our
pickets. News has now arrived to confirm our suspi-
cions ; the barn is burning and was fired by Michigan
pickets shooting red-hot rods of iron into it.

"I have lost a patient to-day; a poor soldier died
of brain fever brought on by lying outdoors after a
hard march. The nights are damp from heavy dews
that settle upon us, commencing at sundown. It is
important to take the utmost care of one's health here,
but the soldiers are proverbially careless on that point."

" Titesdai/ Evening, 24fh. — Another hard day's
work done. I have been over to Washington on busi-
ness connected with my department. It has been warm
and I have had a great deal to do, and am quite ready
to retire to my, not bed — but stools! Picture me sleep-
ing on three camp stools, drinking coffee without even
milk, and calling it good!

76 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

"Our pickets are just in, reporting they have killed
five of the enemy's pickets in the last twenty-four
hours, the order being no firing on their pickets unless
to return a first fire. They sent out a flag of truce,
and the agreement was made not to fire any more, but
this will not long be maintained in all probability. The
loss of the barn crippled their picket service, and now
they are on a par with our men ; before, they had the
advantage."

^^Friday Evening, 27th. — I resume my journal this
evening for your edification. To-day has been a stormy
one ; more or less rain all day ; this afternoon and eve-
ning very high winds, two or three tents having been
blown down, and an elevated temporary observatory
which had been erected on top of this house, shared
the same fate. One of the timbers struck the roof of
the back wing, breaking a hole completely through,
frightening my darkey, who jumped out of a second
story window! He thought a shell had 'struck us, sure.'

" To-night is intensely dark and the wind continues
to blow hard. Three musket shots have just been
heard where some of our regimental pickets are sta-
tioned. What it means we do not yet know. There is
an alluring excitement about this life; were it not so,
it would be intolerable.

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 77

"There is (thank God!) one woman in camp whose
influence is humanizing. . . . Her hus-

band is the oddest of all mortals, has the credit of
being brave, but says of himself, that he thinks it is
getting dangerous, and that he shall resign. He said
this afternoon that in case we were called upon to
advance, he would be found in the rear. I asked him
how it would be in case a retreat should be sounded.
He replied that in that case he should deem it his duty
to lead his forces."

" Saiurday Evening. — I snatch a few moments
before retiring, to relate the history of the past twenty-
four hours. I was called up last night about midnight
to dress a man's hand which had been shot by his own
carelessness, amputation of part of the hand being
necessary.

"This afternoon word came that the enemy were
evacuating Munson's Hill. This news was followed by
the order to send the right wing of our regiment up to
reconnoiter. The companies composing it were soon
under way, and about sundown I followed, to be of ser-
vice in case there was any skirmishing. My services
were not necessary, as our men took quiet possession of
the place. I returned to our quarters, but the left
wing, and two other regiments have moved on to hold
the hill to-night.

78 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

" We may strike tents, and encamp up there to-
morrow, though this is mere supposition. We would
not be surprised to see hot work within the next twen-
ty-four or forty-eight hours. I can see a bright light
on the hill to-night, and one to the north-west, as of a
burning building, probably at Ball's Cross Eoads. Thus
you see we are in a constant state of excitement."

" Sunday Evening, Sepieniher 29th. — I must devote
a few moments to you before retiring for the night.
Perhaps recounting the day's transactions will interest
you as much as anything I can do.

"I repaired this morning, after seeing the sick in
hospital, to Munson's Hill, where I found that during
the night large reinforcements had taken place. Regi-
ment upon regiment had accumulated in the vicinity,
and from the hill a wide range of view opened itself
to the beholder.

"While on the hill. General McClellan, attended by
his body-guard, composed of two companies of cavalry,
came up. It was a fine sight. In the return I met
Captain Whipple, who introduced me to Dr. Magruder,
who was stationed at Fort Randall when the Redfields
were there. He has a cousin, General Magruder, in
the Southern army.

"After this, in company with Dr. McNutty of the

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 79

New York Thirty-Seventh, I started on an exploration
of the enemy's country. We rode on a couple of
miles toward Falls Church, finding our pickets had
been pushed on as the enemy had withdrawn. Just
before reaching the church. Dr. McNutty's horse ran
with him, tearing on through the little hamlet, past our
last picket. The doctor's cap flew off; picking it up, I
followed on to our last picket; further I was not
allowed to go. Beyond this his horse ran half a mile
before he was controlled. I fully expected him to
be taken prisoner, but fortunately on his return he
reported that he had seen nothing. The enemy has
retired, perhaps hoping w^e may run into another Bull
Eun trap. We have not yet received orders to strike
tents, though an order to that effect may come at any
time."

" Tuesday Evening. — I write from Munson's Hill,
where I came at noon to-day. Four of our companies
are bivouacked in an orchard close by ; they sleep on
straw under the apple trees. I found a German com-
pany here, raised in Saginaw, singing inspiringly. It
was really beautiful. .....

"Munson's has been greatly devastated by the rebel
army while they were here. Munson, a Union man,
was returning from Alexandria, four weeks ago to-day.

80 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

when the enemy took possession of this point. He
was fired upon and had his horse shot under him, his
horse now lying where he fell. Mnnson came here
yesterday, for the first time since then, feeling terribly
to find everything so completely destroyed. But we
have nothing to boast of in the line of anti- vandalism,
some of our troops acting as badly as it is possible for
men to act. Unhappy Virginia has indeed suffered
from this unhappy war! .....

"The mail is this moment brought in, and sitting
round on the floor are several officers reading letters
from their wives. All is noise and confusion, with
some rejoicing, others disappointed."

^^ Saturday Eveyiing. — I write from Hunter's
Chapel at the old room. I came down to look after
matters here, and as the day is oppressively hot,
and as my assistant surgeon has never been to Mun-
son's Hill and wished to go, I sent him there for the
night, and remain here myself.

"To-morrow we are to have service there. I shall
go up, and then return for the night. This evening I
made the first draft on the sperm candles you so
thoughtfully furnished. Hitherto Uncle Sam has pro-
vided all that was necessary, but to-night there is a
screw loose somewhere and no candles are in quarters.

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 81

We shall probably march on Mon-
day. I have given you our destination."

" Sunday Evening. — I have been across the river
this afternoon to visit Broadhead's Cavalry camp.
They occupy a position near our first encampment.
All appeared delighted to see me, as I certainly was to
see them. I saw Dr. Johnson, Fred. Bachus, Colonel
Broadhead and Jed. Emmons, the latter without his
seeing me. Stepping up behind him, and putting my
hands each side of his head, I said: 'Now, Emmons,
tell me who it is?' 'By George!' said he, 'I can't,
unless it is Dr. Gunn, and he is in Detroit.' We had
a good laugh, he never having heard I had left

Detroit. . . . Dr. J looks well and

was writing to his wife. The major of that regiment
has his wife with him.

"It is rumored that Mrs. General Richardson,
Mrs. Colonel Poe, and Mrs. Lieutenant Whiting may
join their husbands soon. Should we be ordered
South, I shall telegraph you to come on to Wash-
ington. .....

"We have two more men shot; one by his own
carelessness lost a thumb, the other was shot in the
shoulder while out scouting." ....

82 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

"Hunter's Chapel.
^'Monday P. M., Five O^ Clock. — I am now writing
after a somewhat furious ride from Munson's Hill,
in tlie midst of a refreshing rain attended by thunder
and lightning. For several days the weather has
been oppressively hot, like our July days. This rain
seems doubly grateful. I mailed you a letter this
morning, and this afternoon on the postman's return
he brought your letter of October first mailed on
the third. I need not say how thankfully, aye eagerly,
I always receive them. ... I could

not accept a brigade surgeoncy if I had the oppor-
tunity, for then I could not get away for the lectures.
A brigade surgeoncy is desirable as an easy post
of superintendence of four regiments, but of little
professional responsibility. I heard a surgeon say a
day or two ago, that, as a rule, brigade surgeons were
made of those unfit for the active duties of a regimen-
tal surgeon.

"Our brigade surgeon is a very gentlemanly, easy-
going sort of a doctor, who will not interfere with the
world very greatly. He visited our regimental hospi-
tal the other day, and said that in keeping our records
we had given him some hints that he should profit by.
We have not yet received orders to move. I am sorry,

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 83

for this rain has caught our men at Munson's Hill
without tents." .....

" Tuesday Evening. — There is so much to say that
would amuse you, yet hardly worth writing. One
speech of O'Donnel's, however, I must repeat. Speak-
ing of some woman, he said, 'I should like to get a
mould of her face to run greyhounds \i\\ '

"Last night between eight and nine o'clock it
rained furiously. I think I never knew it to rain
harder. It continued through most of the night. I
thought of the exposed men on Munson's Hill without
tents. It became cold before morning, but the men
seem well to-day. We have been under marching
orders for a week, and are daily expecting to move
hence. General Richardson has not thought best to
move the tents to Munson's Hill. It is surprising
how the men stand the cold, but most of them are in
good spirits. Tents last night were almost inadequate
to resist the storm.

" Mrs. O'Donnel has had her things moved to this
house (Hunter's), and by the aid of two or three dark-
ies, things have assumed quite a homelike appearance.
It takes a woman's hand to' make a house look right.
To-night the colonel, chaplain, two or three captains,
Lieutenant O'Donnel and his wife, and myself occupy

84 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

this house, and while I write all is life and animation
here. I have never relinquished the back parlor ; Cap-
tain Trowbridge occupies the fiont; O'Donnel and wife
a room on the opposite side of the hall, while the
colonel and chaplain are on the second floor. So, you
see, poor Mrs. Hunter's house is quite lively to-night.
" I have been to Munson's Hill again to-day — have
had the sick ,sent down to the hospital, and conse-
quently I shall remain here." ....

^^ Wednesday Evening. — Camp Richardson is about
deserted, tents all gone, except the hospital tent and
Dr. Everett's. We shall probably march to-morrow to
our new camp below Alexandria. In that case Dr.
Everett will remain here with the patients until they
are fit to be moved, protected by a guard of six men.
I go with the regiment."

^^ Friday Evening. — We are yet at Munson's Hill.
You have noticed my allusions to Bailey's Cross-Roads

in former letters. I am writing from his house. B

is from the North, twenty years since; owns a large
farm, and his house is capable of holding one hundred
persons. He fills it every summer with people from
Washington, being only six miles from there. He has
been for weeks between the two fires, a line of our
pickets across his farm directly by his barn, and a line

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 85

of the enemy's twenty or thirty rods back. He and
his family stuck by this property, blew hot and cold as
occasion required, and thus saved it! Yes, and made
money by feeding officers! His house shows bullet
holes from both sides.

" Well! here I am to-night and hope to have a good
sleep in a bed. I came down at eight o'clock, and it is
now nine. After a delicious bowl of bread and milk,
I sat out in front listening to the band of the regiment
which is stationed at the corner. This, like most
Virginia houses, is back something like a third of a
mile from the road, the music at that distance sound-
ing very finely.

"The evening is mild and with the moon shimmer-
ing through the grand old trees, all seems charming;
but O! the devastations of war; you can have no con-
ception of its influence.

"Definite orders have come to-night to march to-
morrow morning at ten o'clock. We shall have a hard
day's work, so I must retire in order to be ready for it.
I carry my half -written letter in my pocket, that I may
add to it the proceedings of the day, and reiterate the
old words which are forever new."

86 memorial sketches.

"Fort Lyon below Alexandria,
'' October 14th, 1861.

"I am, you see by my date, writing from our new
location, below Alexandria. I am very tired to-night,
having had much to do through the day; the scattered
condition of the sick increases my labor and responsi-
bility. To-morrow I return to move my hospital tent
and some who are ill. I cannot write more to-night,
for I am very tired.

"A band has just struck up between my tent and
the colonel's. I suppose it is a serenade to Colonel
Terry, but I also get the benefit ; it is fine and exhila-
rating and almost takes the pain out of my feet. The
chaplain looked in from his tent, saying, ' How can you
write? I had to stop.' Perhaps my soul is not as
sensitively attuned to music as his; but whether it is
or not, I should have stopped writing, had it not been
for its enlivening effects. .....

"There is much in camp life that is attractive as
well as annoying; the music is always good, and even
this cheerless tent might possibly seem tolerable to
you. Loneliness is not one of its concomitants; some-
times one would be almost willing to be lonely."

''Tuesday Evening. — I have been over to Wash-
ington to-day, but lost the object of my journey.

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 87

Warham Brown sits by my side and hands the enclosed
specimen of Secession money, saying : ' Present that to
Mrs. G with my compliments.' Will write to-
morrow night if possible." .....

"Old Camp Eichardson.

^'-Sunday Afternoon. — I date thus, although all
that remains of that camp is the hospital and its
twenty patients, nurses, and cook. A regiment of
miserable, grimy cavalry now occupies our old camp-
ing ground, while the hospital and guard of six soldiers
alone remain.

"Yesterday morning we marched to our new camp,
two miles below Alexandria, where we arrived about
noon. By four o'clock, the camp was arranged and
looked like Camp Eichardson duplicated. Some bag-
gage had to wait for a second train; my tent was
among the left baggage. I slept in an ambulance,
with my buffalo-robe, and was snug enough though
the night was cold. I was very ill through the night,
taken with cholera morbus, and was obliged to take
so much morphine that I felt wretchedly this morning.

Mrs. O. D brought me some toast and coffee to

the ambulance, which seems better, made by a woman's
hand. .....

88 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

"About noon I started for this place, which is
distant from our camp seven or eight miles. I found
myself obliged to ride on a walk most of the way, and
once here, I concluded to stay for the night, and send
Everett back there. He will return here to-morrow,
and I intend then to go back to camp. There is a
room with a fire and I shall be quite comfortable.
Don't be frightened. I shall be all right by to-
morrow. ....

".Yesterday as we passed along the Leesburg turn-
pike from Bailey's Cross-Koads to Alexandria, I saw
one of the most lovely building spots I ever beheld.
In fact the face of the whole country is beautiful."

CHAPTER l^INTH.

TAOCTOR GUNN'S sympathies were easily aroused.
^^ He said, "Any one with the most attenuated milk
of human kindness, must commiserate all, upon whom
the calamities of Avar have fallen."

"Camp Buell, Fort Lyon,
'^Odober 16fh, 1861.

"Although extremely tired to-night, I will write
you briefly, that you may not be disappointed in your
regular letter. Our marching orders were counter-
manded this morning at four o'clock, to the disappoint-
ment of the regiment as a body, who were desirous of
having the attendant excitement. But all had to sub-
mit, and some had to go to work on fortifications.

"The whole country where we are is most charming
and picturesque. From one point we can see for
miles in all directions, overlooking the Potomac in the
distance, Alexandria and the hills of Maryland. Alex-
andria is a strange old town. It not only seems

finished but worn out; nearly everything having a

89

90 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

dilapidated appearance. Yet to me it is not without
interest as being a town of the old Colonial times,
bearing even yet the impress of ancient monarchical
Britain. The streets are named after royalistic ideas,
such as King, Queen, Prince, Duke, and St. Asaph.
Many of them have been paved, but the pavements are
worn out, and are not repaired. The whole impress of
the town is that of something belonging to the past.

"The country around is magnificent, broken and
rolling, giving fine sights and extended views; but O!
how unhappy in being the seat of war. You can have
no realization of the curse, without seeing its imme-
diate effects upon the face of the country.

"I have been very busy getting through a vast
amount of work to-day. There are many ill; the
assistant surgeon is yet at the old camp. This throws
all the labor here on me, and it has been very tiring.

"To-morrow evening I
will commence regular journalistic letters to be mailed
at the usual time." .....

"Hospital, Old Camp Eichardson, Arlington, Ya.
'' Fridaij Noon, October 18th, 1861.

"I did not begin a letter last night as usual, for
two or three reasons: First: instead of a private, three
lieutenants were sent to carry and bring the mail to

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 91

and from Washington. The result was that they en-
gaged in too much private business of their own, and
thereby lost the last boat. Consequently we lost our
mail, or rather the reception of it last evening.
Second : it rained terribly, and everything was damp and
unpleasant. This, with fatigue and the non-reception
of a letter from you, made me feel wretchedly unlike
writing.

"This morning, after my hospital rounds, I came up
here. In coming through Alexandria I met the three
truant officers, with the mail. I made them stop in the
streets, and on a corner one block from where Ellsworth
and Jackson were shot, they opened the bag and fished
out your letter. It was the last one, and whether the
first was in the bag or not, I do not yet know. I
waited only to get the one, and rode on, giving ' Cam '
the rein, while reading your words in the public streets
of Alexandria. ......

"In coming here to-day I took a new route, pass-
ing a fine place whose owner, a woman, continued to
occupy it. The front yard contained a great variety of
flowers, among them some beautiful roses. A colored
girl whom I asked for some of the roses picked a bou-
quet of them, and I send you a specimen of each. .

" I hope to get the eight remaining patients here
transferred to general hospital to-morrow; then my

92 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

assistant will be with me and lighten my labors not a
little. Neither you at Detroit, nor we here, can tell
what the plan of the war will be. Your information
there is almost wholly unreliable ; much is absolutely
manufactured and much is crude. Our means of ob-
taining information outside of this army on the Poto-
mac is no better than yours. This much I think is
pretty certain, that there will be no more falling into
traps. Skirmishers will ever precede the advance of
the army and the enemy's positions be ascertained,
before any advance is made.

" My time is used up. I will take this back with
me and if your other letter is received I will add to
this."

"Camp at Fort Lyon, Evening.
"The second letter I found here on my return. I
have a great deal of writing to do connected with my
duties, which prevent me sometimes from writing you
long letters. My time is wholly occupied. I really
have been too hard worked the last week. I lost
another patient to-day, and you know what an effect
that always has on me." .....

memorial sketches. 93

"Fort Lyon, Virginia,
''Odoher 19th, 1861.

" We have had another miserably wet day, and our
camp would not present many attractions were you to
look in upon us to-night. The soil, of sticky clay,
makes the muddy state of the camp detestable, but it
is camp life, and we must expect neither pavements
without nor carpets within.

" I have been to-day down to the city ; and to ascer-
tain the location of a certain office, I called at the
Jackson Hotel, where Jackson shot Ellsworth! The
house is used by troops and the stair rail is completely
gone. .... . ...

" I don't know how you will like my pencilled let-
ters, but writing on my lap makes it the most available
method. A quiet Sunday leaves me but little to com-
municate. I suspect, however, that we shall not re-
main here much longer, for our pickets are already ten
or twelve miles in advance of us. Mount Vernon,
some six miles in fi'ont, I have been anxious to visit,
but have not yet been able to do so.

" I have just seen a large collection of flowers
gathered by one of our lieutenants, some seven miles
south of this, consisting of roses, verbenas, dahlias,
etc. Think of roses, the last of October! I am posi-
tively in love with Virginia; yet attractive as is this

94 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

country there are unpleasing offsets; insects, spiders
especially, are numberless. While at Hunter's Chapel
and Munson's Hill the ground at night was as starry
as the heavens with the myriads of glow-worms, which
are not noticed by day. Perhaps blessings and curses
are about equally distributed everywhere."

"Fort Lyon, Ocfoher 21sf, 1861.
"Your letter arrived to-night with its accustomed
punctuality, but before I could finish its perusal word

came that Lieutenant Y had just had another

'spasim,' and was very bad! I felt like sending him
and his ' spasims ' — well, never mind where !

" Previous to this interruption, the cry of fire had
been raised ; a tent came near burning. All rushed to
see the cause of the alarm, but it was insufiicient to
draw me from your words, and I read on.

" You express anxiety about my health. I assure
you it was never better than it is now. I was only ill
one night. I slept in the ambulance from preference,
and there was no one else to sleep in it. It is a better
and warmer bed than I have in my tent. These tents
are passable for summer but wretched things for win-
ter. I could get a brigade appointment at once, and
should take it if I could get away after assuming its

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 95

duties. Now I hope to get a leave of absence; in the
other case I could not." .....

" Wednesday Evening. — Yesterday was one of those
unpleasant rainy days and last evening was so uncom-
fortable that I did not attempt to write. To-night,
though windy, it is dry, and our tent is comfortable; I
say 'our,' for to-day I have had the assistant surgeon's
tent pitched directly in front of mine, close upon it,
serving for an ante-room, making a two-roomed house
or tent. Mine, the inner appartment, constitutes our
sleeping-room, while the other serves as a mess room.
I left the original mess some time ago, for various
reasons. Since then it has broken up and I have
formed one with Dr. Everett.

"I wish you could look in upon us to-night. I have
built a fireplace in the first room, and here we have a
fire. In the rear apartment, or bed room, the floor is
thatched with evergreen boughs, forming a green car-
pet! On either side are arranged the couches, while
between them, at the head of the room, is placed a dry-
goods box with a cover on it, on which are arranged
papers, writing materials, candles, etc., thus giving it
quite a home-like appearance. You may wonder at the
pains taken to 'fix up,' when at any time we may be
ordered away, and probably soon shall be; but the true

96 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

method is, to make yourself comfortable at once, if
you can, even though you may encamp only for three
days. .....

'• I got out the forks and spoons to-night for the
first time. Dinner was ready about dark; after we sat
down, I wanted more light. Involuntarily, I spoke
out, ' Billy, light the gas ! ' This of course raised a
shout from both Everett and myself."

'ToET Lyon, South of Alexandria,
" October 24ili, 1861.

" I have been to-day down to Acatink river with
Major Fairbanks; the country is beautiful. The ex-
treme point of our visit was three miles below Mt.
Vernon. We dined at a house which Washington built
for a relative of his family, Major Lewis. The house
is known as the 'Lewis Mansion.' It is a fine, old,
double brick structure, with wide hall, high ceilings,
and handsome finish, located on a high bank overlook-
ing the Potomac at one point and showing Mt. Vernon
in the distance, though the house is not visible.

" The place and grounds bear evidence of former
elegance, but are now much out of repair, and unfor-
tunately in the possession of a family both pecuniarily
and aesthetically unable to keep them in order. For any
one who has a love of the beautiful, and would have a

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 97

care for the house and grounds, this residence would
be a treasure. The war over, I would be the happiest
man in Virginia if I owned that place.

"A man from Maine purchased it some twelve
years since for a mere song. He paid only seven
thousand dollars for the mansion and four hundred
acres of land! The house originally cost not less than
twelve or fifteen thousand. When I thought that
Washington himself had built the place, had undoubt-
edly feasted in these rooms, had once owned all that
domain, I realized that in addition to its natural beau-
ties, it had a charm that, once in my possession, money
could not buy. I passed the site of an old mill owned
by Washington at the time of his death. In fact it
was the last point on his vast estate that he visited.

"It is cold and windy to-night, and while I am
writing to you, am shivering in my half -warmed tent."

"Fort Lyon, Odoher 26th, 1861.
"Your extra letter in answer to my extra from Old
Camp Richardson, bearing the roses, was received this
evening. . . . Yesterday we had a

review of the whole brigade, composed of twelve regi-
ments; it was a good deal of a bore.

98 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

"This lias been a leisure day. I have enjoyed it
less than those more actively employed. I think much
of home and the children. . . . If I

coine back in the spring, I trust you will come with
me. ... I cannot send this letter off

till Monday. Will say good night and finish to-morrow
evening."

^^ Sunday EveMing. — Last night, after saying good
night to you, in came Colonels Grosvenor, Hammond
and Crowl, with sundry other gentlemen from adjoin-
ing regiments. The first three are on the governor's
staff in Michigan, and were just from home. I was
glad to see any one from Michigan, particularly so in
regard to Jerome Crowl. It was pleasant and natural
to hear his voice, and see his familiar form and face.

"To-day we made up a party for Mt. Vernon:
Governor Blair, General Eichardson, Colonels Ham-
mond, Terry, Grosvenor, Crowl, a couple of captains on
General Kichardson's staff', and your humble corres-
pondent. We were attended by an escort of some
twenty cavalry. To say we had a pleasant time, is
perhaps useless. But I was not satisfied. I did not
stay half long enough. I was interested — wanted to
see, linger, and ramble over the grounds more than I
was then able to do. I want to go again, go alone,

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 99

and not talk to any one, unless perhaps to you, if you
could be with me ; otherwise I would be alone.

"The place is very beautiful but the buildings out
of repair. Some repairs have been made during the
last year by the Association of Ladies. The house is
large, with low ceilings, except in the state dining-
room, which appears more like a drawing-room with
an ante-room. Washington's family dining-room, his
library, and sleeping-room interested me most. The
arrangement of these was such, that by a separate
entrance from the front gallery he could pass by a
private staircase to his sleeping apartment, a pleasant
room looking out on the Potomac; thence, to his
library. In this last room he died.

"The tomb contains the two sarcophagi of "Wash-
ington and his wife, visible through the grated door.
Further on, is an entrance into an inner chamber,
where are entombed other members of his family.

"Outside are seen four monuments, one erected to
the memory of Mrs. Conrad, who died in Mississippi,
at the age of twenty- seven. She was born at Wood-
lawn, the house before described. Mrs. Lewis, her
mother, was a grand-daughter of Mrs. Washington
and an adopted daughter of Washington. Major Lewis,
for whom he built the house, was a nephew of Wash-
ington.

100 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

"I cannot describe all I saw nor half I should have
enjoyed seeing, but that Virginians are proud of their
state, with all its interesting and venerable associations,
is not wonderful. Well may it be called 'sacred soil,'
and sorrowful indeed is the day and cause that made it
the battlefield of a striving and divided brotherhood."

CHAPTEE TEKTH.

PvOCTOK GUNN'S veneration for Washington re-
^ calls an hour twenty years afterward, when, in the
Hotel des Invalides, we contemplated another tomb,
ronnd which the interest of a world centers.

It was not the veneration nor admiration he felt for
Washington that enthralled him there, but an over-
whelming magnetic influence that was communicated
to him, through the entire air, which seemed to be
pervaded with the powerful but unseen presence of
Napoleon !

He writes: "I have been again to-day to Mi Yer-
non ; I looked over all those interesting relics ; trod the
paths which he planned; drew water from his well and
quaffed the pure beverage, and finally looked once more
upon the marble receptacle which contains all that is
left of his mortal being, and bears the simple inscrip-
tion, 'Washington.' ^

" Among other things I saw the old modeling plans
which were used in the construction of Woodlawn. I
obtained a leaf from a magnolia planted by Washing-

101

102 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

ton himself, which I enclose and wish you would care-
fully preserve. I was fortunate in procuring this one,
for if permission were given to pluck them, the tree
would soon be dismantled." ....

"FoET Lyon, Alexandkia,
''November Isf, 1861.

"I should have received your letter Thursday, but
there was no mail messenger sent to Washington, every
man of the regiment being required to be present to be
mustered for pay. I had a letter from my mother and

Glynn yesterday; G 's was remarkable for brevity.

I received the medical journals in due
course of mail. Let them accumulate in my postoffice
drawer until January. After you leave, direct that
letters may be sent on to me at Washington.

"I am glad my descriptive letter of our respective
rooms interested you as it did. Cold weather is upon
us; i. c, all nights and some days are cold. The leaves
are beginning to turn and the woods to assume that
richness which comes to us a month earlier. This has
inaugurated the necessity of inventing something to
warm our tents. Consequently we commenced the fire-
places described so glowingly. The first day's trial
was grand, as I told you, that day being breezy, but
the next morning was still, and when the boy built tlie

MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

103

fire, it literally smoked us, not only out of our beds, but
out of the tent, rubbing our eyes and weeping vigor-
ously. Then followed a series of experiments to im-
prove on our first. All failed! Then another attempt
at a fireplace. It also was a failure. Finally, the
third was a success! This consumed all the time until
three days since. But although we succeeded in build-
ing a fireplace that would not swoke, it did not warm
us, neither could we cook ; another fire out of doors was
required for this. To-day I have been to Alexandria
and purchased a sheet-iron cook-stove; a small light
affair with good oven, and sundry pieces of stove furni-
ture; stove, pipe and all can be picked up and carried
with one hand.

" This is now roaring in our first room, and I am
sitting at the edge of the second, comfortably writing
to you. ... I feel quite elated with it ;

the pipe goes through a hole in the top of the tent,
wherein is sewed a tin collar. One of your darning-
needles (with an expert at one end) did the sewing!

" To-day, when returning from Alexandria, I rode
up on a sightly eminence, from which the view was
delightful. Seven or eight miles of the Potomac can
be seen; at your feet Hunting Creek, a broad bayou of
the Potomac. Just beyond is Alexandria, while in the
distance, six miles further up, in plain sight, lies the

104 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

City of Washington. As I drew rein there on this first
day of November, 1861, I made a prayer, foolish per-
haps, that I might be permitted some day to plant a
home on that spot.

^^ Sunday Afternoon. — Just as I closed the above
(Friday evening) it began to rain and soon increased to
a terrible storm ; tents blew down, exposing the inmates
to a pitiless tempest. I slept delightfully through it
all, though everything inside, including the covering
over me, was wet the next morning. The rain poured
in torrents all through the day (Saturday), obliging
nearly everybody in camp to put up with cold fare, no
cooking being possible outside. Then my luck was
apparent in getting my stove up in the nick of time,
for I had a warm breakfast, and the nicest dinner I
have had since coming into camp.

" On through the day until dark, the rain continued
to pour and the wind to blow. Everything was piteous-
ly distressing; the camp was a mud-hole, the tents
dripping, men were wet and cold, and yet there was
little discontent. Everybody laughed ; now and then a
noisy shout announced another tent blown down, its
inmates struggling under the wet canvas, from which
they crawled forth to re-erect their flimsy cloth cover-
ing, fit only for paper-rags. The storm raged, no mes-

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 105

senger was sent to the city for the mail ; consequently
your extra letter was not received until to-day." .

"Fort Lyon, November 4ih, 1861.

" For the first time I am disappointed by a Mon-
day's or Thursday's mail without a letter from you. It
must be the fault of Uncle Sam, and not your own.
You cannot imagine how great a comfort your letters
are to me in camp. .....

" We were literally in a mud-hole after the storm
and one day afterward. Our camp presented a dilapi-
dated appearance; not a step could be taken unless
through the mud ; but these discomforts are met philo-
sophically." .....

" Camp Union, Fort Lyon, near Alexandria,
''November- 13th, 186 L
" Get some reliable person or family
(if you can) to take charge of the house and keep
'Maud.'^ If not, you must take her with you.

" I last wrote you from Washington. Whenever I
am there through the week my time is wholly taken up
with business, and I have never yet been able to see
any of the interesting things there. I returned on
Monday evening and found that the ' cullud pusson '

' a pet greyhound.

106 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

who does ns the honor of cooking for us, had obtained
a leave of absence. So, cooking my own chocolate, I
went to bed too tired to write you anything last night.

" It was ten o'clock when I retired. At twelve, I
was aroused by an order to be ready for marching at
three! The brigade surgeon was in Washington. As
the whole division was to move, I was obliged to act
as brigade surgeon. I sent for the hospital cook, to
make coffee for us; then I started out to see which of
the medical officers of the brigade were present, and
to determine who should be sent into the field, and who
should remain behind with the four hospitals.

"By four o'clock we were in motion, and for the
first time I Avas moving with a large army; the whole
division moving on to our destination, which was Po-
hick church, twelve miles distant, as that point had
been discovered to be occupied by the enemy, the day
previous (Monday), the object of the expedition being
to dislodge them. The division moved by two routes. A
portion of our force was detached about four miles this
side of the church to take a side route and attack on
the flank, while we advanced in front.

" We (to make a short story of what to us was a
slow and cautious movement) arrived at the church at
eight o'clock and found that the enemy had ' vamosed
the ranch.' Scouts were then sent out in every direc-

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 107

tion, to find any trace of them. The Fifth were ordered
to advance on the road to Ocoquan, a small village
where the enemy's pickets had been stationed up to
about an hour before we arrived. They had been
withdrawn on our approach. This advance was made
by keeping our scouts ahead, and to both the right and
left. My curiosity led me to go with the scouts a por-
tion of the time. I was with the captain of a battery,
a 'regular,' and we reached the deserted picket in
advance of all except a party under one of our lieu-
tenants which reached them by flank movement, just
ahead of us.

" Before the regiment and battery came up Captain
Thompson proposed that he and I should ride on
toward the village; but seeing nothing of interest,
returned, though, had we seen the enemy, we probably
should have returned rather sooner. The captain pro-
posed the trip, I think, merely to see if I would go, for
regulars are inclined to test volunteers when they get
a chance.

" On our return, just before coming to the place
where we left the scouts and where the regiment and
battery had arrived, our horses took it into their heads
to have a little run ; we indulged their whim, and came
in at the top of a break-neck run. As we came tearing
in, several soldiers sprang from the ground (where

108 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

they were resting), and seized their guns, supposing
we were flying from pursuers. This advance was very
unmilitary, as my place is properly in the rear, but I
had taken advantage of my temporary brigadier-ship
to do more as I pleased. Well, after ' marching up the
hill we marched down again.'

" Fording a river on our return, about a mile from
the deserted picket-post, 'Cam' slipped into a deep
hole, and fell flat on his side, landing me fairly in
the water! Eather an inglorious ending, I thought,
while wading about to regain my cap and horse. This
feat accomplished, I again mounted, having fourteen
miles between me and dry clothes! Arriving at Pohick
church, where we found all the other skirmishing regi-
ments, the order was issued to move the column on the
return. After getting the ambulances and hospital
transports in line in their proper place, I put spurs to
my horse and made good time in pursuit of dry clothes.
I arrived two hours before the column, and when back
had been fourteen consecutive hours in the saddle,
while poor ' Cam ' had hardly had time to lunch on two
quarts of oats.

"Now you know why I did not write last night.
After a busy day, then fourteen hours in the saddle on
Tuesday, I was not in a writing mood. Now, although
I have spun out a long accouiJt about myself, I am

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 109

going to tell you of something far more interesting
to me.

" Pohick church is one of the churches in Fairfax
county which Washington contributed largely to build,
and of which he was a vestryman. This church is a
square brick structure without spire or tower. It was
finished very finely for those times — that is, the pulpit
and altar. The pulpit is on the side, while the altar is
in the east end. Both are richly carved and decorated.
The church must have been handsome. The pulpit
has a sounding-board, and under it is the little box of
a desk for the clerk, just as we see it represented in
pictures of old English churches. The floors are of
flagstones, such as we use for sidewalks, but sadly out
of repair. The pews are the ancient square, high-
backed boxes of the olden time. The church has been
badly mutilated by having the carving and decorations
broken off. The pulpit is supported on a hexagonal
column ; it is of Norway pine and very quaint. I was
anxious to possess myself of some relic, and must con-
fess to a strong inclination towards vandalism.

"We all felt angry that we did not have a brush,
instead of a march and counter-march. Good night!
I am at the bottom of my sheet
and must close. .....

110 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

" Camp Union, Foet Lyon, Va.,
'^ November 27th, 1861.

" Last evening I wrote and directed to Cincinnati,
and you will probably find the letter there on your
arrival. I have always expected to return on the first
of January, unless we were ordered into active field
service. Now, as the prospect is that we shall not be
so ordered, it will not be long before I join you in
Detroit.

" So you really feel afraid I may have spoiled my
coat in that unfortunate ducking ? That would indeed
be a pity compared to the loss of my neck! To relieve
you on that point, the old grey was worn on that
memorable occasion, for the double purpose of pre-
serving the blue, and at the same time being somewhat
disguised in case we had a skirmish, for the old grey
would not be so attractive a mark to sharp-shooters as
a bright uniform. You may have noticed that these
Southern gentlemen pick off officers with most admir-
able discernment. The green sash, which has to be
worn to distinguish one as a surgeon, suffered some
from the baptism. Now are we quits?"

" Foet Lyon, Va., December 4th, 1861.
" If you have again postponed your journey, you
will have a large batch of letters waiting your arrival.

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. Ill

Your information of John Bagley's testimony in my
behalf gave me great pleasure. I saw very little of
Mr. Bagley when he was here, and was not prepared
to have him speak so warmly in my favor. I have,
however, conscientiously tried to discharge my duties
in the somewhat difficult part which I have had to fill,
and am glad to know that my efforts have been appre-
ciated. I have seen a 'Tribune' of the 29th ult, in
which appears a letter from 'Peter Smith,' giving me
the same credit that Bagley did, and I judge that
Bagley must be the author.

" I will mention one fact to you by way of illustra-
tion: On Monday last, about three p. m., a messenger
came over from Washington with a note from a Mr.
Bussell, a clerk in the ' Interior,' begging me to come
and see his brother, whom he had removed from the
hospital here, with my consent, to more comfortable
quarters in Washington. The young man was danger-
ously ill, and he told the messenger not to return with-
out me. I obeyed the call, getting leave of absence
until the next evening, thinking I would visit Dr.
Johnson and also the capitol (Congress being in ses-
sion). Well, that night the patient died. The next
morning I began thinking of matters here in camp,
and instead of going on my recreation trip, I set my
horse toward camp and made good time in my home-

112 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

ward progress. I found all going on smoothly, but
my anxiety about the hospital had cheated me out of a
day's enjoyment." .....

Camp Union, Fort Lyon, Va.,
''December 8th, 1861.

"It is a most glorious Sunday. I am sitting in my
tent without vest, in my dressing-gown, and without
fire. For three days past the weather has been beauti-
ful, and I can hardly realize that there is sleighing in
Michigan. The climate at this season is delightful.
We have had some cold days, but have seen snow but
twice, and then in small quantity. The rain has been
considerable, but to any one living in a house, that
would be nothing. If you were here to-day we would
have a delightful gallop across the country. I think
so many times, on my trips to and from Alexandria,
how much I should like this. . .

"An interesting piece of news is that Mrs. Fair-
banks sent to her husband, the major, a full Thanks-
giving dinner, everything desirable in the way of a
delicious repast. .... The prospect
now is that we shall go into winter quarters. I should
not be anxious only on account of the university. .

"I have a new cook; and as new brooms sweep
clean, all goes off nicely. He seems neat, and can

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 113

cook. Two friends are to dine with me, and I will give
you our menu! Boiled turkey with oyster sauce; I pass
over vegetables^ to an excellent apple pie, which the
pastry woman in Alexandria made for us; after dinner
coffee. ^ . . . .

''^Evening. — We had at dinner, Mr. Morley and Mr.
Lacey of Detroit. Mr. Lacey told me he saw you on
the cars when he started from Detroit; he came as far
as Toledo on the same car with you. So you see I
have later news than any letter from you. This even-
ing we have had a capital gallop over the hills and
through the valleys — Colonel Poe, Captain Newell,
Dr. Lyster, Lieutenant Draper, myself and others.
Aside from being away from my family I have never
enjoyed three months more than I have the three I
have been in the army." .....

"Camp Michigan,
^'■Sunday Evening, December loth, 1861.
"You speak of the weather. Here it has been per-
fectly delightful. Our new camp, to which I alluded
in my last, is one of the finest spots you can imagine.
From the front of my tent I can look out upon one of
the most beautiful valleys the sun ever shone upon.
Beyond is the Potomac, seen between Mt. Vernon and

114. MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

Dogiie Point, while the tent is embowered by ever-
greens.

"The hospital tents are on the* same prominence
and are alike embowered. From just back of mine, you
see a ravine, and on the opposite slope you see the tops
of the conical tents of Companies B and G rising up
among the trees, producing a most picturesque effect.
You can hardly imagine how pleasing to the eye is this
intermingling of the new white tents and evergreens.

"I have sent in my application for leave of absence.
When Colonel Terry signed the application, he said he
hated to spare me (all the officers apparently feel in
the same way, although there may be some exceptions
among the men). It is extremely difficult to do one's
duty and please all. There are a great number of
shirks in a regiment, who feign sickness, to get rid of
duty; these I must detect and report back for duty.
Men, too, are such consummate fools about taking
medicine. I have been applied to by men with pick-
axe in hand or axe on shoulder, for medicine. When
it is refused and they are sent back to duty, the chances
are, they will be angry. It requires a little knowledge
of human nature, at least, to get along smoothly."

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 115

" Camp Michigan, December 2 2d, 1861.
"My leave of absence has been granted, but o.nly
for three weeks, the same time that was given to Ham-
ilton. My time is so limited I cannot join you in
Cincinnati or any other place than Detroit. Thursday,
the second of January, I must begin lecturing. I shall
work hard and late in Ann Arbor. I hope to get a
couple of weeks added to my leave. We have had
brilliant weather for the last two weeks, but it is now
cold and beginning to rain. Only ten days more, God
willing, and I shall join you." ....

CHAPTER ELEVENTH.

T17HEN Doctor Gunn's quota of lectures had been
' * crowded into the space of three weeks, he
returned to the army, taking his eldest son, a boy of
twelve, with him into the field. Later, I joined them
in camp at their quarters below Alexandria. The gal-
lops my husband had wished for in the Autumn, were
now realized. Dr. Everett's horse was placed at his
disposal, while I rode " Cam," and though I had little
confidence in the doctor's horse, managed to ride him
with sufficient courage to enable me, when mounted, to
enjoy the delightful and picturesque views the doctor
had so often and so glowingly described. This novel
life was of short duration ; a brief two weeks only were
we together domiciled in a tent, when orders came to
march the regiments to Alexandria for transportation.

It was in the early spring of 1862, that I saw the
Army of the Potomac embarked on transports of every
description, loaded to the water's edge with their human
freight. Amidst that throng of troops, my thoughts
were concentrated upon two, though my mind included

116

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 117

the entire army that, alike uncertain of its destiny,
steamed down the broad Potomac.

Alexandria was now more desolate than ever. In a
few days I went to Washington, where for months I
was surrounded by those who appeared to be antago-
nistic to General McClellan and his management. Some
of these unfavorable criticisms were allowed to be
reflected in my questioning letters to the doctor, which
naturally called out from him spirited and character-
istic replies.

"At an Old Rebel Camp,

" Three Miles from Yorktown,

" Wednesday Evening, April 10th, 1862.

"I am now, since Mr. C left Camp Heintzel-

man, in a condition to write. Last Friday morning we
marched for Yorktown ; the whole army moved at differ-
ent hours and by different routes, arriving in front of
Yorktown on Saturday amid brisk and heavy cannon-
ading, which was opened by the foremost batteries, and
returned by the rebels from behind their entrench-
ments. The latter are thoroughly entrenched. We
have heavy work before us. Heavy siege guBs have
been brought up, and soon the work will commence in
earnest.

118 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

" It has rained constantly since Monday, and the
weather has been cold even for Detroit at this time of
year. Vegetation is much more advanced, peach-blos-
soms are fully out, but I have^suffered more from cold
than at any other time during the winter. I was
ordered to establish a hospital in a house just in rear
of our encampment, about a mile and a half from the
enemy's entrenchments. I had just accomplished this
when orders came to vacate because it was too much
exposed.

"An old church half a mile in the rear was then
selected. This I occupied but one day, as the surgeons
concluded to get the several hospitals of our brigade
together; and for this purpose we selected this Confed-
erate camp, which was deserted when our forces began
to accumulate at the point. They had no tents, but
had made for themselves comfortable log-cabins. Of
these we have taken possession, and they make us very
capital wards.

"If, after the coming engagement is over, the
wounded are sent back to Fortress Monroe, I may be
sent there to take charge of the surgical wards. This
I would like for several reasons: first, the hospital is a
large and fine one, situated right on the shore of Hamp-
ton Roads; second, the service would suit me; and
third, you could be with me." ....

MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

119

" Before Yorktown, Apiil 18fh, 1862.

"To-day is received by Mr. C the letter which

you wrote froni Baltimore. He informs me that D

told him your saddle was not brought to the boat;
there has been some mistake, and you probably will
have to go over to Alexandria to rectify it.

" I was aroused last night by musketry and heavy
cannonading in the direction of our camp. Thinking
our brigade might be in an engagement, we saddled
and with our traps rode up to camp. We found all
quiet, the skirmish being further to the left. There I
found your letter and read it, in place of ministering to
the wounded as at first I expected to do.

" I am in haste and can only write you briefly.

I am well, though I was very lame
and bruised for a couple of weeks from the accident
which you have since heard about, but which I did not
intend to disturb you by telling at the time. It was a
narrow escape, but, thank a good God, I was spared."

" Before Yorktown, April 20th, 1862.
" To-day is Sunday, and my birthday. I will not
tell you how old I am, for you are not fond of statistics.

I doubt my going back to Old
Point; in fact, if we carry Yorktown and advance on

120 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

Eichmond, I shall desire to go with the army, though
taking charge of the hospital would be easier and more
agreeable.

" We have been before Yorktown two weeks. Prob-
ably it seems to you we have been dilatory, but I assure
you it is far otherwise, when one sees the amount of
work already accomplished. We found the enemy
fortified and as numerous as ourselves. Our respective
lines are eight miles long; they, behind strong en-
trenchments. Eoads had to be cut from Ship Point to
Cheesman's Creek landing, six miles below, to bring up
provisions and forage, and also the heavy siege guns
we find to be necessary to carry the works of the
enemy's batteries. The traverses for these guns had to
be constructed, and principally in the night. Twenty
miles of road have been made since we have been here,
and the amount of work necessary to be done to build
one of these batteries is enormous. We are now nearly
ready to begin an assault, but the siege must be some-
what protracted. McClellan will, however, triumph;
his plans must be successful, and then this will virtually
settle the question.

"God bless 'Old Abe' for standing by and sup-
porting McClellan when so many others at Washington
are trying t© slaughter him. To cripple General Mc-
Clellan now, would be to protract the war. Don't talk

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 121

politics with any one, but trust in McClellan, Lincoln,
and a good God. We have generals all over the coun-
try, fighting well and truly (I would not detract one
iota from the merits of any), but the campaigns have
all been conducted on the general plan of General
McClellan. Lincoln stands by him, and in spite of
some wretched politicians, has given him a true sup-
port."

"Before Yorktown,
''^Sunday Evening^ April 2 2d, 1862.

" I have been unfortunately situated since coming
here about writing; during the two weeks we have
been here I have organized and assisted in organizing
three different hospitals, and have moved as many
times. Much of the time has been wet and cold.

" Our supply of stationery is about played out!
We have one pen left. I am reduced to foolscap, and
as you will see from the variety of the envelopes I
have used, that, like the others, I beg, borrow, and
steal. Don't be alarmed for my morals ; we all inter-
change this dishonesty, then laugh about it.

" You allude in your letter to McClellan' s delay,
and say that Manassas could have been taken last
Autumn. I know better! I know what the army was
last Fall, and I know that, had the attempt been made.

122 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

it probably would have ended in another Bull Eun;
but if successful, it would have been so at the expense
of ten thousand lives! McClellan's plan was from
the very first to push the campaign as fast as the dis-
ciplining of the troops would permit in the West, and
by turning the enemy's flank, then compel the evacua-
tion of Manassas, without the loss of a life. The
history of the Spring has proved the sagacity of the
plan. The western flank is turned, and the advantages
there gained are being pushed, while Manassas is evac-
uated to fall back upon the Eappahannock, and form
there another line. McClellan then moves behind
them upon the Peninsula and they are obliged to fall
further back upon Yorktown and there concentrate
their forces.

" Before McClellan left Washington it was well
understood that McDowell and Banks with their corps
d' armee were to advance overland and occupy Glou-
cester Point opposite Yorktown, thus making capture
of the latter place and bagging the whole rebel force,
almost a certainty. But after McClellan left, political
influence detached McDowell and Banks at Gloucester.
Hero-like, McClellan, while he demanded from the war
department forty thousand men more, set about mak-
ing roads, dragging up heavy siege guns, and will in
good time carry Yorktown; not by hurling thousands

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 123

upon thousands of human lives upon their works, but
by a stratagem that will save thousands of our soldiers'
lives.

"Fortunately, 'Old Abe' is not so corrupt as some
of his advisers, and while they voted against giving
McClellan the additional forty thousand, he stated to
them that McClellan should have the men! Yorktown
will fall ! and with it will crumble the last hope of the
rebels. Listen not to the quacks who criticise things
as far above their comprehension as holiness is above
the capacity of the devil!

"Lieutenant T did not understand what I said

about going to Fort Monroe. Surgeon Cuyler, the
medical director of the military district in which the
Fortress is situated, solicited me to take charge of the
surgical wards of a large hospital which was being
organized there. He said he had selected a good phy-
sician, and he wanted a competent surgeon. I had had
no previous accquaintance with him, but when intro-
duced, he immediately recognized me as the Professor
of Surgery in the University of Michigan, and at our
second meeting proposed this plan to me. Dr. Cuyler
made application to Dr. Tripler for the transfer. Dr.

T told him if the hospital in question was made

the depot for surgical cases he would effect the trans-
fer. So the matter rests.

124 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

"If Yorktown falls, I would about as soon go on to
Richmond, as to go back to Fort Monroe, although the
surgeoncy of a large army hospital is a responsible and
honorable post and one that any surgeon in the army
would be glad to have offered to him. I shall accept,
if it is again offered, but shall not seek it. The annoy-
ances I have suffered have been of a minor nature,
and from a minor source ; still they were annoyances.

"Glynn, on the whole, is a good boy, but he thinks
it hard that I won't allow him to go on picket, etc. He
would go a little in front of the foremost, if I would
let him."

"Camp Winfield Scott, April 23rd, 1862.
"Your letter is received and i am sorry you so
readily take on the color of those about you. It is pos-
sible there may be those who honestly distrust Mc-
Clellan, but the hue-and-cry originated with scheming
politicians who began to fear his great popularity. I
don't believe McClellan ever thought of the presidency,
but these howling politicians will excite the army to
take the matter in hand, and when the time comes give
their vote together; the army has full confidence in
him. What called him to the command but the manner
in which he conducted the campaign in Western Vir-
ginia ? The energy, decision, and rapidity of his move-

MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

125

ments, the success which attended them, was what
directed attention to him when a great leader was called
for.

"You wonder what induced McClellan to come
here! Why, of course to meet the enemy in their last
stronghold, after having by stratagem and battles
driven them from all others. You allude to this place
as a trap! It will prove a trap to the enemy only.
Their outcry is that that portion of the army imme-
diately under McClellan has accomplished no more.
Why ! they have been disciplined, and at the same time
have kept at bay the grand army of rebels which was
strong enough to have thrashed out all our Western
forces, and which has been waiting for some flaw in
our plans to march upon Washington.

"This grand army has been obliged to fall back to
York River, through the splendid military concatena-
tions of McClellan ; and through the same genius will,
in spite of all the aid which the miserable politicians
give them in trying to cripple McClellan, be com-
pletely routed from their position also.

"Do not write any more of this nonsense; write
love and I will do the same." ....

CHAPTER TWELFTH.

T7R0M the doctor's standpoint, neither the intensity
^ of his feelings nor his language excited wonder in
me, for soon I learned that what he said was verified.
He (the doctor) was as anxious to get to Richmond as
two prominent senators were determined that McClellan
should noi! The wife of one of these senators said in
my presence, that she "lived in fear night and day,
lest McClellan would gain another battle and finally
get to Richmond.''' Since then I have heard the doctor
assert " that whatever were the merits or demerits of
General McClellan, it was a significant fact that after
his removal, there was no further harping about delay."
And later he said "that the conservative young gen-
eral deserved the greatest credit for first forming that
Grand Army of the Potomac, which was the foundation
for those to work upon who came after him."

"Camp Winfield Scott, J.pn7 24th, 1862.
"Your letter of the twenty-second was received this
evening. ... If you knew how much

126

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 127

I have to do, how embarrassed I am by a thousand
cares, the wearing anxiety that results from the over-
sight of the sick, you would indeed commiserate me. I
am quite certain that under present auspices, I am
heartily tired of the service. Dr. Clark and Mr. How-
ard came yesterday and were my guests to-night. They
came to furnish comforts for those in hospital, and will
wait until after the battle. ....

" Tuesdai) Evening, April 25fh. — This morning
brought another letter from you, which came down
from camp, having been overlooked last evening by the
mail carrier. . . . Men are now falling

ill, and we have so little to do with. Tonight brought
the first fruits of the committee from Michigan in the
shape of bedding, etc. I hope soon to have the men
comfortable once more. Dr. Clark has gone to Fortress
Monroe to procure some luxuries for those who are ill.
He will return tomorrow. It appears to do the men
so much good to feel that the citizens at home have
remembered them.

" You speak of the interest you have in my every-
day life. I assure you I have felt very little interest
in it lately, I have been so oppressed with care. The
fare is poor; nothing in the way of bakery can be pro-
cured except hard bread, which I abominate. I have

128 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

paid two dollars per bushel for potatoes and was glad
to get them at that price. However, lately I have been
able to get flour, and Charlie makes elegant fritters,
albeit he fries them more than half the time in suet.

"Yesterday Dr. Clark breakfasted with me for the
first time. We had some of Charlie's fried steak with
plenty of gravy, potatoes, fritters, and coffee without
milk! Dr. Clark wrote to his w4fe that it was the best
breakfast he had eaten in a year! I told the doctor
that sometimes Charlie fried the fritters in suet, but
although they were good, they smacked a little of tal-
low, and were not so good as those we were now eating.
Just then I looked at the cooking paraphernalia (we eat
in the kitchen) and discovered a large piece of suet
from which some had been freely cut, glanced at Char-
lie's face, which had on it a sort of suppressed grin, the
truth flashed upon me, and I exclaimed, ' By George !
the rascal has fried these we are eating in suet!' We
enjoyed the joke quite as much as we did the breakfast.

"As I before mentioned to you, our hospital and
consequently my own quarters are located in deserted
barracks, — log-huts, some of them nicely built. Mine
is about fifteen by eighteen feet square, almost as large
as four such tents as my last one at Camp Michigan.
There is no floor, but a large fire-place in which, as I
write, burns a cheerful fire. In this room I have medi-

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 129

cines arranged on one side; in the center a table; in
one comer a rough bedstead, covered with pine boughs,
upon which, with my buffalo-robe and blankets, I make
a bed for Glynn and myself. In another corner is a
Secession army cot (formerly the property of Colonel
McKinney of a North Carolina regiment), which I
appropriated at the house we first occupied as a hospi-
tal and which we deserted as the shells of the enemy
flew directly on the house. This cot young Allen sleeps
on. I keep him with me to dispense medicines, write,
etc. Colonel McKinney was killed in a skirmish occur-
ring about a week since, and is spoken of very highly
by the Confederate papers. You perceive the cot to
be quite a trophy. In the rear of my mansion, I have
another smaller one, where Charlie reigns monarch!

"Thus I have photographed for you a picture of my
rude but comfortable surroundings. I can fill but three
pages, having no envelopes, neither wafers, wax, nor
gum, so must fold my letter the old-fashioned way and
resort to surgical plaster for a seal."

" Camp Winfield Scott, before Yorktown,
''April 28th, 1862,
"You ask several questions about McClellan's
movements here which I have already answered in a
former letter that you have probably received before

130 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

this, but there is one question which requires an answer.
You ask why he came into this horrid, unhealthy,
swampy country. ' Did he not know the miserable hole
into which he was going to lead that fine army ?' Of
course he knew all about it from the maps of the topo-
graphical corps. I consulted one of them before we
left Fort Monroe, and probabjy McClellan consulted
them last Autumn.

"Necessity compelled him to move here upon this
Peninsula, of the advantages of which the rebels
availed themselves one year ago, and by means of
which they whipped out Butler at Big Bethel in May
last. You slander the country. It is as fine a level
country as any about Detroit. Would you condemn a
general for leading a fine army into the vicinity of
Detroit if his object was to take the city?

" Our division happens to be encamped in a swampy
place, because its position fell there. The line must be
perfect, the place must be occupied, and it was the lot
of Hamilton's division to occupy it. I repeat it, the
country from here to Fort Monroe is the finest level
country I ever saw. Hole! Would to God there were
no worse holes on His footstool!

"You say it is with McClellan's expenditure and
delay that people are dissatisfied. As to expense,
those who dance must pay the fiddler; as to delay, I

MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

131

have answered that in a former letter. It is a set of
implacable politicians who raised this howl; that they
have succeeded in drawing into their wake unsuspect-
ing persons is more than probable. My only fear is that
Lincoln will not hold out against the political hounds
who are pressing him. He has had McClellan's resig-
nation in his hands for months, with the direction from
McClellan to accept it whenever he distrusted his policy
or ability.

"You ask if I think the siege of Yorktown will be
as bloody as the battle of Pittsburg Landing. Prob-
ably not, if we regard McClellan's humane and scien-
tific mode of warfare; and yet for this very act there
are those who vituperate him." ....

"Camp Winfield Scott, before Yorktown, Va.
" Wednesday, April 30th, 1862.

"I have read and reread your letter received this
morning in order to make a long one out of it,
though I hold that a letter should be the measure of
its own length and not the paper on which it happens
to be written. I mention its brevity only as being a
disappointment to me. .....

"I am glad my letter in reference to McClellan
pleased you. I shall be most happy to answer all your
inquiries, but in two or three of your letters you, your-

132 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

self became the critic, saying, ' You must admit so and
so.' Now . . . I do admit that I know

nothing about military service; much less that liigh
branch of it which involves the combination of exten-
sive movements. Whether this or that would have
been the better course I am no more prepared to say,
than would General McClellan be to say whether this
or that would have been the best way for me to manage
that fatal form of measles which so afflicted the army
last winter. However, I do recognize General McClel-
lan's ability and training in the profession of arms.

"General Heintzelman, who was no admirer of
McClellan, when he was made a major-general and
assumed command of a corps (T arm^e, and was then
for the first time made acquainted with the whole of
McClellan' s plans, says that 'they (the plans) must
succeed; there is no chance of failure (humanly speak-
ing). Perhaps the plans might have been less elaborate
and still successful, but with a much greater expendi-
ture of life.'

"Let these croakers go themselves, or send their
sons and brothers into the field; let them leave the
comforts of their homes and the society of their families ; .
let them hurl themselves upon the breach; let them
throw themselves upon the batteries of the enemy, and ^
rest assured we shall hear less of expenditure and delay.

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 133

"No! . . . Ask as many questions

as you please and I will answer them most cheerfully,
but do not find fault with plans that tend to save life,
to soothe lacerated hearts at home: do not criticise
things that neither you nor I can understand. I ap-
prove your plan of not talking politics. I never allow
myself to talk of such things now. After the war will
be quite time enough for that." ....

"Camp Winfield Scott,
" Thursday Afternoon, May Isf, 1862.
"Glyndon has just written to you, and as he has
told his experience of yesterday, it becomes my duty to
explain a little that you may not be quite so uneasy as
you otherwise would be. The siege batteries are num-
bered; the heaviest (No. 1) is situated on the bank of
York river, commanding the river front of Yorktown
and Gloucester Point opposite. Below, something like
a mile, lie several of our war steamers. Day before
yesterday they had been firing at a steam-boat crossing
between Yorktown and Gloucester Point. Dr. Clark
and I w^ent down to see the firing and I allow^ed Glynn
to go along. There was no danger ; the steamers being
beyond range of the enemy's guns there w^as no return
to their fire, and had there been, we were completely to
one side of the range.

134 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

"Battery No. 1 was not yet completed, consequently
there was no firing from it ; masked by an orchard, the
enemy knew nothing of it, and it had not yet drawn

their fire. Yesterday G asked me if he might go

down, and I allowed him the privilege. It was five
o'clock; I was about closing my letter to you when Dr.
Clark, who had gone out some two hours previously,
came in and said that battery No. 1 was completed and
they were getting range of their guns by a few shots
upon the enemy, and that the shells from the rebel for-
tifications were falling all round the scene of our visit
the previous day. I was alarmed, and asked if he had
seen Glyndon there. He had not. In double-quick
time I was in the saddle and on my way to the scene of
action. I had hardly ridden a third of the distance,
when I heard a shrill signal whistle, which I instantly
recognized. Glynn, returning and seeing me, thus
signalled. He was all excitement, and as he related
his experiences, seemed supremely happy. I was infi-
nitely relieved. The rest he has told you."

"Van Allen Farm, James River, Virginia.
''Wednesday Evening, May 7th, 1862.
" My last note was abruptly broken off by an order
to march. I trust you received it with an explanatory
one from Dr. Everett.

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 135

"Well, to take up the thread of events, I got into
saddle as speedily as possible, and after making slow
progress through the mud, an aid-de-camp arrived,
ordering us on with all possible speed to reinforce
General Hooker and to clear the road of any and every-
thing in the way, and push on! General H was

fighting the enemy.

"Our brigade led the division, and our regiment the
brigade. Soon another aid came back hurrying us on.
General Kearney rode in advance to ascertain how the
land lay. At ten o'clock he came back and halted us,
telling General Berry to rest the men for half an hour,
then resume the march without knapsacks, leaving
them in charge of a small guard, and to run the men
on for three miles at the utmost speed and go at once
into action.

" The scene lay just this side of Williamsburg, in a
thick wood where the enemy were fighting General
Hooker from a rifle pit in front of strong works. They
were driving him gradually back. Such was the first
stern work the Fifth were called upon to do. We
pushed on, and as Ave neared the scene of action, the
road lay through a dense forest, and on either side of
the way were the exhausted soldiers who had been in
action, and were withdrawn for rest, while others still
fought on. Cheers greeted our arrival, which were

136 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

returned by our brigade with a yell that seemed fairly
devilish !

"Beaching the field depot to which the wounded
were brought back I turned in to aid in the exhausting
work of the tired surgeons. Here General Heintzel-
man sat on his horse impatiently awaiting us. As I
turned in, he said, 'Just in time, Doctor,' pointing to
the field of my operations, and passed on across the
road to give General Berry orders.

" Dismounting, I commenced my labors. It seemed
I had hardly been engaged five minutes, when Captain
LeFarren was brought back with the end of his nose
shot off and his cheek horribly mangled; then in they
came constantly — terribly shot and maimed, some dying
as they' were brought in. It seemed as though our
regiment was being wholly slaughtered! The rain
continued to pour, the garments of the men and the
ground on which they lay, literally soaking. None of
us had on a dry thread; my own water-drenched trou-
sers had dripped into my boots until my feet were in a
bath. On we worked until night overspread us, and
still the rain poured, only darkness stopping the dread-
ful carnage.

" The nearest building was one mile away, no am-
bulances of our division had yet come up, and those of
Hooker's were not able to carry one in twenty. A few

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 137

were carried; those who had been shot in the arms,
and could, walked; the rest remained on the ground all
night in the continuous rain. Many died before morn-
ing, and all suffered terribly. When night came on
and nothing could be done but to watch the poor fel-
lows, I left Everett and Adams, rode back here, and
went to work. At midnight wrapped myself in the
robe which had been rolled up on 'Cam's ' back all day,
the fur soaking; and in it, with my wet clothes, laid
down on the floor and slept till morning. I had eaten
nothing since breakfast, which consisted of crackers
and coffee. I arose faint and exhausted; sought a
negro shanty where I procured some coffee and biscuit,
and thus fortified, I again commenced w^ork. At noon
we had coffee and beef, an ox having been butchered
for the benefit of the wounded and those who were
working for their relief. By two o'clock we had all
been tolerably w^ell cared for. I then rode back upon
the battle-field. Many were still lying on the ground
at the depot, and many still continued to lie there
until to-day, thus remaining out two nights after
receiving their wounds.

" The weather had cleared and a genial sun warmed
and di'ied the poor fellows. The dead of both sides
thickly strewed the woods, presenting the most harrow-
ing sight. Here and there was a familiar face. Un-

138 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

fortunate Lieutenant Gunning was shot through the
head early in the fight. From this shocking scene I
rode back to hurry up the hospital wagon containing
my supplies, and found it detained by the quartermas-
ters, who would order such useless things as supplies
for the sick to remain behind to accommodate wagons
containing quartermasters' stores. I ordered my wagon
forward, and at night, Tuesday, it arrived.

"Glynn has been carrying lemonade to the poor
fellows all day, and seems abundantly repaid by wit-
nessing their grateful expressions. At noon, after com-
pleting the round at the barn (we have three houses
and one large barn), one poor fellow called out to him,
' Boy, they have missed me. If you will bring me a

cupful I will give you a quarter.' G . replied, 'Do

you think I would take money from a wounded soldier ?
No! but I Avill make, and bring you some.'

" This has been another day of hard work. We
are shipping off the unfortunate fellows and shall prob-
ably get them all off to-morrow. So much for my
personal experience. Now for the battle and result.

"The Fifth and Second Michigan and the Thirty-
Seventh New York found and charged on the enemy;
drove them back out of the rifle-pit and beyond, con-
tinuing to fight till night. About an hour after they
entered the field, Birney's and Jameson's brigade came

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 139

up and also engaged in the strife. When too dark to
fight, all rested upon their arms till morning, when it
was found the enemy had retreated, leaving their dead
and all of their worst wounded (there are eight hundred
wounded prisoners in Williamsburg) ; then we advanced,
and as day broke, planted the Stars and Stripes on the
works, which are said to be very strong,

"The Fifth fought bravely and get good credit, I
believe. Colonel Terry was slightly injured by a ball
which shattered his stirrup; Colonel Buck was shot
through the thigh ; Major Fairbank's horse was shot in
two places; several of the company officers are badly
wounded. The whole loss I have not yet learned.

"And now, I think you ask: 'Where was our boy all
this time?' I will tell you: and when I have told you,
you will wonder how I slept on that night after the
battle. .... I found the field

depot too near the scene of strife at the time we en-
tered it, to be agreeable, the shot crackling around us
on the trees. For this reason I sent Glyndon back to
a certain point on the road to wait till I should come
to him. After our forces had driven the enemy back
and there was less danger, I sent Allen to bring up

G , but he returned without him. I then mounted

and rode back myself, only too glad to escape for a

140

MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

while the sickening sights around me, but I too failed
in finding him.

"Thus night and darkness closed over us, thirty
thousand men in the forest around us, the rain pouring,
and my boy missing! How do you think I felt? As I
reasoned, I knew if he had obeyed me, he was safe, and
I believed that he had obeyed; but still the question
would arise whether his curiosity had not led him for-
ward to the field, and if so, whether he had not been
shot! — At this thought my heart quaked with fear;
then to my comfort would come my confidence in his
obedience. So I worked on till midnight, and, worn
out, I slept.

"Early in the morning I sent a note to Allen to
report to me, and if Glyndon had turned up, to bring
him. When Allen came he reported the young man to
be on his way; that he had come along in the morning
while they were breaking their fast on hard bread, took
a seat on the ground with them and helped himself as
coolly as if he had not been gone. They asked him
where he had slept. He replied, "With a darkey in
the woods.' He had remained in the spot I had
designated, or in its immediate vicinity, until nearly
dark, then he thought it time to look out for himself.
He would not go forward against my injunctions, but
he had learned from some one that I had gone back to

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 141

the hospital. It was then too dark for him to attempt
to find it; so, casting aboiit for a supperless bed, he fell
in with General Berry's servant. With him he made
friends, and as the fellow had a small shelter tent, a
blanket, and a big overcoat of the general's in his
keeping, they pitched their tent, built a fire; then, the
darkey wrapping Glynn in the overcoat, they laid down

together and slept till morning. G is a capital

boy and has a generous heart. God grant that he may
be a comfort to us in years to come! Now I have told
you my participation in an affair that you probably
know all about through the papers."

CHAPTER THIRTEENTH.

G LYNDON, with an abandoned pocket-case of his
father's, containing a few instruments, and with
some dressings, was ready for an emergency. A plucky
soldier who had not yet received attention, allowed him
to extract a bullet from his temple. He had just made
the incision, when his father came along, and said
(purposely evincing no surprise), "Young man, you
had better make that cut a little longer." But the boy
worked on a few seconds, grasped and brought out the
ball!

By this time two or three doctors and some officers
had come up and w^ere amused spectators, while the
young operator fished from his pockets what was
required and finished dressing the wound. Then turn-
ing to his father, said, " There was another fellow I
wanted to get at, but he was afraid!" After this he
dressed many of the simpler wounds and was intrusted
with another operation, for this achievement (of a boy
of twelve) had made him quite a hero.

142

memorial sketches. 143

"In Camp between James and York Eivers,
"Abreast West Point Landing,

''May llih, 1862.

" Last evening I received several letters from you
and am perched np on an ambulance to answer them.
They are the first received since starting on this march;
and since the letter from Van Allen's farm, this is the
first opportunity I have had for writing. To-day we
are permitted to repose on our march while some other
portions of the army are on the move. We have just
heard of the possession of Norfolk by our troops and
the blowing up of the 'Merrimac' We have also just
heard some cannonading off to our left in front and in
advance. It may be our vessels advancing up the
James river.

"Before I left the hospital on the Yan Allen farm,
two rebel gun-boats came up the James and threw
shells on our side of the river some five miles below us,
then passed up the river, respecting our flag and not
shelling us. We were agreeably disappointed, for we
were shipping off our wounded men and had a train of
some fifty ambulances drawn up around the hospitals.
However, before the boats got abreast of us we had the
ambulances, such as were loaded, drawn into a hollow
out of sight. Perhaps the reason they respected our
hospital flag, was the knowledge of our having some

144 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

eight hundred of their wounded prisoners in our keep-
ing at Williamsburg.

"A couple of hours later, as we were bidding adieu
to the scene of our labors, two or three large men-of-
war appeared in the river below us and commenced
shelling the opposite shore; by this we knew they were
our own boats. We could not wait to have them come
up opposite, but hurried up to join our forces at Will-
iamsburg. They started onward to Richmond. All
the route hither from Williamsburg is strewn with
broken wagons, several cannon and caissons, showing
that their flight was to them, what Bull Run was to us.
Many prisoners have fallen into our hands and many
have skulked off into the woods during the fight, glad
of a chance to desert.

"The papers we have seen, fail to do justice to
Berry's brigade, for it was our timely arrival that saved
the day. We are, however, to be righted in this mat-
ter, and an order has been issued for ' Williamsburg ' to
be inscribed on our banners. It is singular how trivial
circumstances sometimes turn the whole tide of events;
for instance, when we had received the order to hurry
on and clear the road of everything that obstructed our
passage, we, in obedience to that order, broke into
somebody's division that was filing into our route from
another road, cutting off a whole brigade. They were

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 145

marching very slowly and we were hurrying on. They
were indignant at thus being broken into.

" After marching on something like a mile we w^ere
met by General Kearney, and at the same time an aide
came up from the brigade which was cut off, complain-
ing that we had broken into their columns. General
Kearney said, 'Ride back and tell the rear to halt till
your brigade can join your column.' But after the
aide had started, he evidently thought of the great
necessity of haste and called to one of his own aides,
' Go back and tell them to let us come on, we shall soon
be out of their way, for we> shall take another road!'
He then rode forward to the front.

" Soon after we came to two roads; no one had been
left to designate which one we were to take, and Gen-
eral Berry was continuing on the main route. I
remembered General Kearney's order to his aide, and
turning to General Berry, said, ' General, I think you
are wrong,' and repeated to him General Kearney's
words to his aide. The general immediately halted the
column, and after investigation took the other road,
saying, ' Doctor, I thank you for noticing and telling
me what General Kearney said, otherwise I should have
been out of the way.' Had we been half an hour later
we should have lost the day; and had I not taken in
and repeated the remark, we should have lost more

146 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

time than that. I had the satisfaction of thinking that
I did something that day to save the honor of our flag,
as well as to minister to those who defended it.

"Since writing the above, I have stopped to read
the 'Clipper' of the 9th inst., in which there is an
account of the battle of Williamsburg; and in the
account the division of General Kearney is mentioned
only to say that it arrived on the field just before night;
while the truth is, we arrived at half past two o'clock,
when the rebels had driven our forces back to within
two hundred yards of the operating depot, over which,
when I entered it, the bullets Avere clattering at every
discharge. Our brigade immediately went into the
fight and drove the enemy back to a rifle-pit, and then
from it at the point of the bayonet, and continued to
drive them backward till dark, where they remained
resting on their arms until morning broke. Such is the
true state of matters on the left wing, and in the oflicial
reports you will see them so stated. But enough of
this. I long to get to Richmond. . . .

" Since the battle I have obtained a pet colt for
Glynn. He is two years old and has evidently been a

pet, and though unused to the bit is tractable. G

has ridden him several days, is much pleased, and may
well be, for it makes him quite independent. He calls

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 147

him ' Dixie,' is now writing to you, and no doubt will
tell you all about it."

" Camp at Slaterville, Va.,
''Wednesday Evening, May 14th, 1862.

" I have been ill for two days, and this writing in
camp is no fool of a trick. When I am busy, Allen is
equally so; and when not too busy to write, there are
no conveniences for writing. While on the march
every day, it is almost impossible, and aside from the
fatigue, it is extremely difficult. I am now sitting
tailor-fashion on my buffalo-robe, trying to write on
my lap. Three times since I commenced, the candle
has upset, throwing the sperm in all directions; once
all over Allen's letter which he is (I presume from his
impatience at the accident) writing to his sweetheart.
Cramped from my first position, I have spread out flat!
and will try this awhile. .....

" This experience will apologize to you sufficiently,
I think, for my not writing more frequently when on
the march. I had no time Sunday. After Yorktown
was evacuated I was working like a dog getting ready
for the march. You don't — you can't begin to know
the half of my difficulties. .....

O ! how my elbows ache ! For this letter I deserve the
greatest credit." .....

148 memorial sketches.

" Camp at Cumberland Landing, Va.,
''Friday Afiernoon, May 16th, 1862.

"To-day brought another letter from you, I hasten
to answer it because we are lying by and I can write.
Night before last the feat was accomplished under
somewhat constrained circumstances.

" We marched to this point yesterday forenoon
through the rain. I was wet and cold; slept last night
as I did the night after the battle, with this difference,
that my buffalo-robe was dry. Yesterday was much
such a day as the Monday on which the battle occurred.
We came here partly to obtain supplies, this being
the landing where all our supplies now come. Look at
the map and you will see the exact place, and will dis-
cover we are nearing Richmond apace. We expect
another battle before we reach the city. God grant it
may crown our efforts and do much toward quelling
the rebellion!

" With regard to what our destination will be, of
course nothing is known to us. You speak of it as a
fact that General Porter will be provost- marshal of
Richmond. How do you know this? General Porter,
who was provost of Washington, is in command of a
brigade only. General Fitz-John Porter is in com-
mand of a division.

"It is, I suppose, time that General Hamilton was

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 149

relieved of his command on account of his writing to
General McClellan two very emphatic letters, as Gen-
eral Heintzelman paid no attention to his very just
remonstrance against working the men of his division
so hard while encamped in an extremely unhealthy
place. General Hamilton will receive the hearty sup-
port of all the officers of his former division if he
demands an investigation. I know not what was con-
tained in General Hamilton's letter. It may have been
the tone which was unmilitary, but to the fact that the
location of the camp was highly objectionable, no medi-
cal officer in this division, I think, would hesitate to
affirm.

"We shall probably move tomorrow, and several
days may transpire when it will be difficult for me to
write. Continue to write, for your letters are the only
comfort I get out of this fatiguing dog's-life.

"I think G will get no harm by this kind of

life, while it must enlarge his ideas. It strikes me
that a sufficient reply to people who wonder that you
should let him be here, would be simply to state that
' he is with his father.'' Glynn rides on General
Berry's staff and is a fund of amusement to the officers,
especially when riding in the rain with 'Dixie' up to
his knees in mud, and the boy and horse almost covered
by a mackintosh !

150 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

"Now to tell you liow I got the pony. I paid five
dollars to a little darkey who had captured it! Many
horses and mules were picked up at Yorktown and
along the road, this among the number. An order was
issued from division head-quarters to turn over all such
animals to the provost-marshal, but General Berry said
'Keep the little fellow; he can be of no use to Uncle
Sam.' T think he is of the Virginia racing stock, is a
fine walker, and though poor and undeveloped, is com-
ing on nicely and with care will in time develop into
a fine pony." .....

"Camp Terey, Virginia,
"Sunday Morning, May 18th, 1862.
"This bright Sunday morning brought another
letter from your dear hand, and this morning finds me
answering it. Camp Terry is the same camp at Cum-
berland where we have been for the past two days and
from which my last letter was written. We are, I
suspect, to remain here a few days longer, I suppose
for the purpose of allowing McDowell to come up from
Fredericksburg. We are now completely in the rear
with the exception of Hooker's division. The balance
of the army is at, and between here and the White
House, a point some five miles further up the river,
where the railroad from West Point to Eichmond

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 151

crosses the Pamimkey. The roads are muddy and it is
difficult to move over them. When mule teams get
almost irretrievably stuck in the mud, the drivers'
peculiar vocabulary is the most efficient thing that has
yet been discovered in getting them out. The early
foliage is beginning to appear and some of the spots in
this vicinity are beautiful.

"I suppose the enemy will dispute our passage to
Richmond at the Chickahominy. Much is said about
capture; it seems to me dispersion is quite as effectual
as capture. Once dispersed, the army can never be re-
collected. Jeff Davis' frantic call upon the inhabitants
to destroy their property will be unavailing to his
cause, in fact it will injure it; for men who own a year's
growth of cotton are not going to make such a sacrifice
when it can avail neither them nor their government
anything.

"I enclose the map which you sent me; it is the
best one I have seen of this locality. The star that I
have made, marks the operating depot ; the black line
indicates our brigade, to which point the Confederates
had driven our forces back at the moment of our arrival.
The house on James river marked ' Allen's,' to which I
have prefixed 'Yan,' is the position of the hospital
where I was for two days after the battle. The circle
to the rear of Fort Magruder was another place to which

152 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

some thirty of the Michigan Fifth were removed and
where I spent the afternoon of Wednesday and the
morning of Thursday. I there had stolen from me the
cot of Colonel McKinney which I prized so highly.

Keep the map for future
reference." . . .

'' Tuesday, May 20th. — I am by no means sorry
you take so deep an interest in the battle of Williams-
burg. It is evidently true that New York and Phila-
delphia papers are reluctant to award merit to any but
New York and Pennsylvania regiments, and when, as in
the present instance, they are forced to award to West-
ern troops their due meed of praise, they also magnify
their own state forces. As to the Thirty-Eighth and
Fortieth New York regiments, they are in Birney's
brigade and did well, but they did not arrive on the
field until a full hour and a half after Berry's brigade
had driven the rebels back from the rifle-pit.

"The loss in our division in killed and wounded is
four hundred and twenty-six. Of these, three hundred
belong to Berry's brigade, one hundred and twenty-six
to Birney's brigade. Jameson's was not in the fight.
Of the three hundred that belong to Berry's brigade,
one hundred and fifty belong to the Fifth Michigan.
These statistics tell the story.

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. • 153

"The request of Birney to allow the Thirty-Eighth
and Fortieth regiments to inscribe 'Williamsburg' on
their banner is brazen-faced assurance, while the desire
to inscribe 'Bull Eun' is ridiculously foolish. What
regiment would wish to perpetuate the inglorious
retreat from this last-named field? But enough,
McClellan's headquarters are yet in sight of our camp,
though it is probable he will advance them soon." . .

"Baltimoke Cross Eoads, Ya.,

"Eighteen Miles from Eichmond,
''Mmj 21st, 1862.

" To-day I have received another most welcome
letter; and as we have as yet no orders to march, I am
seated to answer it. We have reached that point where
every one is uncomfortable; I, no more so, perhaps,
than others, but I cannot incur the hardships incident
to field service much longer if a resignation will relieve
me from them. The nights are always cold and very
damp, while the days are hot. If the weather is telling
upon my health, do not be alarmed, for it is only in
diminished weight and careworn looks that I am aware
that the climate and service disagree with me.

" There are other things which I cannot now ex-
plain, that make my position here uncomfortable.
The truth is that the administration of the medical

154 • MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

department of the army is utterly imbecile. The great
mistake I made was in not applying for a brigade
surgeoncy; a regimental surgeon is held responsible
and his hands are tied. Medical directors, medical
ditto of corps cVarmee^ and medical ditto of divisions are
red-tape channels through which everything must go.
"There is not one ambulance where there should be
ten, and to one regiment there are two little miserable
sling carts only at my command. I can obtain no more,
even for temporary use, except by following up red-tape
through two or three medical officers; and since we
started on this march, I have been unable to obtain them
even by that means. Men fall sick and require trans-
portation to be carried forward or back to some depot.
It cannot be obtained; the men suffer and the surgeon
is cursed by men who can't appreciate his embarrass-
ments, and by some who ivov^i! ....

"Ten Miles from Eichmond,
" Monday Evening, May 26fh, 1862.
" We marched over the Chickahominy yesterday,
bridges having been constructed for that purpose, and
we are now approaching swamps in earnest. This was
our first Sunday's march, although other divisions fre-
quently march on Sunday. There are now two corps
cV armSe on this side of the swamp. In crossing we

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 155

found no opposition, and though some of the troops
were assailed, there was no stand made by the enemy
at this point. This march up the Peninsula, General
Berry last evening pronounced to be the most scientific
and skillful possible.

" Since the battle of Williamsburg the whole army
has been within easy striking distance, i. e., every part
has been in supporting distance of other parts. Thus
we have gradually moved up and are now working to
the north side of Richmond, where we shall take pos-
session of the railroad to Fredericksburg. This will
enable McDowell to join us. Meantime, Burnside
approaches from the south-east. Banks and Fremont
fi-om the north-west. Buell occupies the south-west.
Thus if the army of McClellan does not press on so
fast as to frighten the enemy to evacuate within the
next week, the whole army at Richmond is completely
surrounded, and sooner or later must surrender by their
supplies being cut off, their escape thus being rendered
impossible.

" Here you see the grandest development of the
whole of McClellan' s admirable plan. People have
scolded about McClellan' s delay ; and now at this stage,
the only thing that seems to me in danger, is that Mc-
Clellan's portion of the army is almost too soon on the
ground and may cause the escape of the enemy south-

156 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

ward before Burnside and the southward forces are in
position to prevent it. But let us wait patiently for
events as they arise. .....

" We have cold and comfort-dispelling rains, and
until to-day, either marching or storms have prevented
my writing to you or to any one else. All feel that
McClellan has at least verified one of his promises
which he made in his address to his army in the Spring:
that they would have ' hardships and privations.' There
is probably not an officer or soldier but feels a deep
longing to be quit of this kind of life. For myself, I
often find myself wondering what could have induced
me to leave the comforts that I did to encounter what
I have. It is quite possible we may have a battle
before the city, but while this is so it may be quite
otherwise. My hope is that no battle may occur, but
that the city may be so completely invested, as to com-
pel its surrender. .....

" Enclosed I send a photograph of LeFarren's
wounds; be sure and preserve it for me. I wrote to
you day before yesterday without having heard from
you, and had I not schooled myself not to expect let-
ters I should have been greatly disappointed; but
to-day I have received three."

CHAPTER FOURTEEi:^TH.

"Camp Ten Miles from Kichmond,
' " Wednesday Evening, May 28, 1862.
^^T HA YE been marching and counter-marching, in
-*• heat, in cold, in wet, in hunger, in anger, in
ignorance and in despair, at the beck and nod of others,
until the thing is about 'played out'. I have never
felt so small, so insignificant, in short so mean, as I
have since I have been a thing to be ordered about.
Could I leave the service to-morrow with credit to my-
self, or rather if the people of Michigan would be
satisfied, I should do it most assuredly.

^^\o\\ say that Mrs. E complains that surgeons

are never alluded to after a battle. No! why should
they be? Poor benighted soul! did any one dream
for a moment that a surgeon's field had aught of glory
about it? No! The glory consists of carnage and
death. The more bloody the battle, the greater the
glory. A surgeon may labor harder, must labor longer
(we continued to fight three days), may exhibit a
higher grade of skill, may exercise the best feelings of

167

158 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

our poor human nature, may bind up many a heart as
well as limb, but who so poor as to do him honor?
There is no glory for our profession.

"We may brave the pestilence when all others fLee;
we may remain fii'm at our posts when death is more
imminent than it ever was on the battle field; but who
sings our praise! Does the world know who the phy-
sicians were who fell at Norfolk when yellow fever
depopulated that town? Does it know who rushed in
to fill their places? And of those who survived, can it
designate one? Did they survive to receive fame?
Yet those men were braver than the bravest military
leader, for theirs was a bravery unsupported by excite-
ment or by the hope of fame. No! there are none so
poor as to do us reverence. And, thank God, there are
few of us so unsophisticated as to expect it."

^"S>r

k

f

CHAPTER FIFTEENTH.

"Camp near Fair Oaks, Va.,
''June 7th, 1862.
^^ TT is a week since the battle! and still we have made
-*- no apparent progress. Matters seem to us here
on the ground just as they did then, and it requires not
a little patience to keep from fretting. This being so, I
do not wonder at the tone of your letter dated May
30th, the day after the battle. But try
not to be influenced if people do say McClellan is so
slow; that 'he is always a day too late'. I assert with-
out the possibility of a truthful contradiction, that he
has never^ yet been a day too late.

"Six weeks ago Halleck fought the battle of Pitts-
burg Landing, which was similar in many respects to
the one we fought a week ago. Both were a surprise,
both were unfavorable to the Union cause on the first
day, and in both the Confederates were routed on the
second. After that, a battle was supposed necessarily
to follow speedily upon the first, but it did not;
weeks went by, and now we just hear that the rebels

159

160 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

have ii^ and Halleck is after them and has cut their
line of .r>»treat, it being a railroad, taken many pris-
oners, etc.

"Now, did not Halleck know better what he was
about than anybody else? Has not his time been well
spent ? He has gained a greater victory than he possi-
bly could have done by a battle. So here, McClellan.
and his associates know their business and will fully
perform their duty, and if there is delay there is a good
reason for it, even if the world does not know it. Who
can be more impatient than I, to get out of this? You
could answer these cavilers when they open on Mc-
Clellan, by quoting Halleck's delay ....
Let these civilians leave their dressing-robes, their
dining-rooms and couches and take the field! Perhaps
then it would be different.

"I often picture to myself the joy of our reunited
home ; the circle in which our children form their part
of the grouping. . . . . .1 hardly

know what kind of a letter this is. I have been con-
stantly interrupted since it was begun. I close with a
feeling of confusion which to me is unusual. But I
am clear on one point." .....

memorial sketches. 161

"Camp at Fair Oaks,
" Tuesday, June 10th, 1862.

"I wish you could give me the name of that Michi-
gan Fifth soldier who mourned because the Fifth could
fight no more! Judd is truly heroic. His nerval
force, if I may so express it, gives such a support to
his physical, that it enables him to sustain an injury
with less shock than any man I have ever seen. His
brother Captain Judd, said to be equally brave, was
killed. It was probably a mistake about Dr. Johnson
being taken prisoner, for I have heard that he sent to
the Sanitary Commission for supplies, having lost
everything, even his personal effects.

"You say that the last battle has disappointed you,
as we have gained nothing. In this you are mistaken.
The enemy, finding we were closing up around them
and getting ready to make regular approaches, made a
very powerful and desperate attempt to break through
our lines. They failed! Is this no success? But now
we have advanced our pickets at this very point, and at
others have advanced the position of the whole force.
Everything is progressing.

"You ask why we did not make a dash upon Rich-
mond while the enemy retreated! I do not know what
McClellan's reasons were, but I can tell you my own
impressions. The enemy is in strong force before us ;

162 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

the obstruction to our progress, the Chickahominy,
prevents our making a simultaneous movement;
Porter's portion of the army is not yet across, nor
would it be safe yet to abandon that point, for it would
enable the Confederates to turn our right flank and cut
off our supplies.

"It is possible that a dark night would have been
successful, but it is equally possible that it would have
ruined us. Now, what was McClellan's duty in these
premises? One false step costs us our Nationality.
Let those who bear the responsibility, judge for them-
selves. It is cruel to do otherwise. McClellan cannot
escape the responsibility of this campaign, and it is
wrong to constantly stir up dissatisfaction. You can-
not possibly be more impatient than I am for the cap-
ture of Kichmond, but it will do no good to fret about
delays. There are no unnecessary delays.

"You ask about my every-day life. Charlie left me
at Yorkto^vn. Since then I have had no cook but the
hospital cook, and if I had, I have nothing to cook! I
assure you it is a hard life for one who appreciates a
good dinner; but, ii'importe, I trust I shall be able to
stand it." .....

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 163

"Camp in Another Swamp,
''June mil, 1862.
" For the last two days I have been engaged in the
discharge of duties arising from a change of location.
I find a little leisure to-day, and
with it has come another letter from you; it is the one
written after your meeting Dr. J . He was fortu-
nate in being with a comparatively small army and one
that was fitted out at, and marched from Washington.
Eules as to means of transportation and baggage were
not so strict as they otherwise would have been. He
was fortunate also . . . But enough

said on this point. I shall come through it all right.

" I anticipate hard fighting before we occupy Eich-
mond, and then I anticipate a speedy termination of the
active portion of the war. I don't believe our regi-
ment or any other will be called into very active service
after Richmond is taken. We are, as I intimated, in
an unhealthy location. We are now to the left of the
battle-field and in a swamp! I am half a mile to the
rear, on pretty good ground, with the medical depart-
ment of the several regiments of the brigade. It is at
this point an operating depot ought to be established,
should we have an engagement here, and yesterday for
a few hours, one appeared imminent.

164 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

" I think McClellan will make an advance on Eich-
mond soon; everything seems to indicate that he is
nearly ready to make the first combined move in the
game. What the subsequent moves will be will of
course depend upon the resistance of the enemy. My
own belief is that, after an advance, we shall be obliged
to begin a regular approach by a system of parallels.
If we find the city as strongly guarded by defensive
works as it is represented, such undoubtedly will be the
plan; but if not, then a dash may carry all before us.
God grant we may be successful without great loss of
life!"

"Before Richmond,
^^ Monday Morning^ June 23rd, 1862.

" I suspect that the Confederates are evacuating
Richmond ; at least we see evidences this morning that
something of the kind is being done. They have
retired from our front, and whether it is a strategic
movement or whether it is the same all along the line,
is not yet known here. God grant that they may
evacuate! I had much rather such would be the case
than that we should capture the city and twenty thou-
sand prisoners by the loss of ten thousand lives.

" Now for the reason of this preference. Should
we have a battle and capture the city and twenty thou-

MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

165

sand prisoners, and kill and wound ten thousand, that
would make their loss thirty thousand. If they have
one hundred thousand, that would leave them seventy
thousand who would be in good moral condition. If,
on the contrary, they skedaddle and the whole one
hundred thousand get away, they will be so demoralized
by the retreat that they won't be worth fifty thousand,
while there will be the full one hundred thousand to
feed, and clothe, and control. The probability, how-
ever, is, whatever the appearance may be, that they have
iwt runy .....

" Camp Affliction, July llfh, 1862.
" I am sitting in my ambulance, to which I have
been almost confined for eleven days. On the first day
of July I gave up and took to the ambulance. I fought
as long as I could against it, but finally had to succumb.
I sent in my resignation on the third day, but at this
rate I shall get my returns about the first of ^August."

The above paragraph is from a long letter, the last
the doctor wrote from the army. It refers to the
trouble he had in getting his resignation accepted.

I remember an incident Doctor Gunn repeated
about the though tfulness of his boy at Harrison's

166 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

Landing, while he was confined to his ambulance for
eleven days or more. Beef, it was almost impossible
to procure. Glyndon learning that slaughtering was
going on at head-quarters, proceeded to the spot,
hoping to be able to get something for his father. I
do not remember whether he arrived too late, or just
what the reasons were, but he was unsuccessful.

Noticing a quantity of entrails which had been
discarded, to which small pieces of liver still adhered,
he took out his knife and cut as much as he could
possibly carry in his hands. When he appeared be-
fore his father with the tiny bits protruding from
between his fingers, the doctor said he could have cried,
and fully appreciated then what his boy was to him.
Glyndon cooked and served the savory meal, the first
the doctor had relished for weeks, the sentiment and
practicality enhancing its value and his enjoyment.

The following letter appeared in the "Detroit Free
Press:"—

LETTER FEOM DR. GUNN.

" "We are permitted to copy the following extract
from a private letter written by Dr. Moses Gunn. It
will give the reader some idea of the wretched manage-

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 167

ment o£ the Medical Department of the Army of the
Potomac : —

" Baltimore, Juhj 14th, 1862.

"I have been to Gettysburg, where I remained two
days. I was too late to do much surgery, but saw
many of the Michigan wounded, and di'essed many of
their wounds. I dressed Colonel Flannigan's stump
twice; he is doing well.

" The battle was a most terrible one, and victory
wavered in the air before she finally perched upon our
banners. The loss on both sides Avas fearful! The
medical department was wretchedly managed. I have
never seen such inadequate provisions. Many a poor
fellow lay out five or six days before being brought in.
As I have often said, the Medical Director of the Army
of the Potomac has not capacity to administer its affairs,
and now he is so narrow and jealous in his views as to
prevent others from rendering him the assistance they
otherwise might.

"Medical Inspector Johnson volunteered his serv-
ices in providing for the emergency, but Letterman
said ' All needful preparations are made, sir ' ; and this
when but a scanty medical corps was left behind, with
so small a supply of instruments as to necessitate the
borrowing of the same by the officers from one another.

168 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

"Only about thirty ambulances were left behind to
transport the thousands of wounded, who were scattered
over a space at least of five miles in diameter. For
two days there were literally no provisions, and until
the last four days no organization, and but an imperfect
one now. It is simply sheer incapacity coupled with
inordinate conceit to which this all is to be attributed.

" I am now going to the front where a battle is
hourly expected. If it comes off, I hope I may be able
to do some good; if not I shall return soon."

CHAPTER SIXTEENTH.

TlfHEN Doctor Gunn arrived in Washington he was
' ^ worn and thin, and a mere shadow of himself.
Glyndon, though not the rosy-cheeked boy he was
when he left Alexandria in the Spring, had endured
the hardships better. The change of climate and food
was invigorating. After a few weeks had elapsed, the
doctor returned to Detroit and resumed practice. He
once more established us in our home, where he enjoyed
his garden of fruits and flowers and a small green-
house that required little care and afforded him the
greatest satisfaction in seeing camellias and roses of
his own in bloom.

He had a superb greyhound, a lively and mischiev-
ous ornament on the place, whose ruthless disregard
for young shoots and buds brought down upon him
the doctor's vengeance, but still the hound roamed

unscathed. When dressed in a suit of G 's or

W 's clothes, he was the most ludicrous spectacle

one could well behold. E in one of her letters

relates her first experience on seeing him: — "I have

169

170 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

seen a large greyhound run in habiliments, and still
survive ! Yesterday my cousins came in and announced
that ' Pike was ready to run.' This sport which the
boys aptly call ' a torture of fun' came near killing me.
The dog began to race, and I to laugh, — he tore up and
down the street, and jumped fences, his costume flap-
ping in the breeze. Finally, when disappearing over a
neighboring gate, and in a second bounding back again
with a loaf of bread in his moidh! I thought I was
dying. But at this moment of collapse, uncle drove
up and the responsibility of my future devolved upon
him." . .

The color of this hound was a light soft grey; he
was beautiful and of gentle breed, but unfortunately
a fhief! The choicest joints, if unwatched, were
spirited away; our bread, like that of our neighbors,
ignominiously disappeared. When pastry was placed
on the sideboard, the knave walked in, and when he
walked out, battlements of pastry with embrasures,
alone remained.

AVe were finishing our soup, when the alarm reached
us that the more substantial part of our dinner was in
Pike's mouth! We rushed to the scene of his struggles
with a large hot turkey (we all wished it had been
hotter), that burned him in his frantic efforts to drag
it to the general hiding-place of his stolen treasures.

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 171

The doctor's tolerance seemed wonderful, but he was
fond of animals and especially clement to this hound,
though he said he sometimes felt like annihilating him.

In the plenitude of his affection for horses, the
doctor permitted those that were intelligent to do re-
sponsible things by themselves. He had a young,
high-spirited but perfectly reliable animal, possessing
unusual instincts, the only drawback being that she was
piebald ! As an illustration of her gentleness and
ingenuity, she was always allowed to take herself and
the chaise to the stable. It needed some engineering
to cross the platform that spanned the gutter. Some-
times missing her calculations, and finding she was not
going to strike the little bridge squarely, she would
stop, reconnoiter, back a few steps, veer towards the
opposite side of the street, and by this modus operandi
pass securely over.

Starting one day as usual (with the chaise), she dis-
covered some obstruction in the alley. Halting, she
appeared to consider a moment, then with head high in
air took her way up Shelby street, turned on Fort, then
down Wayne, entering the alley at the other end which
opened upon that street. She had gone a distance of
more than two blocks, watched by those who knew her,
being conspicuous by her beautiful white mane and
tail and stylish appearance, — albeit she teas speckled!

172 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

The doctor had five nieces only; they belonged to
one family, were his brother's children, and rejoiced
in a superior mother. One of these nieces happened
to be present during an initiatory undertaking of
which she writes facetiously to one of her sisters: —

" . . . . . Uncle Doctor

had resolved upon having if possible a comfortable as
well as a perfectly fitting boot, and as a preliminary
step proposed to take a cast of his foot. I wish you
had been here the evening he appeared with a box of
plaster-of-paris and announced to us his intentions.
Although he had never (like a certain illustrious his-
torical personage) performed elaborate toilettes in the
presence of royalty, he did proceed to accomplish the
act of taking a cast of his foot in the presence of his

family, niece included. Aunt A did not enter

with much zeal into the enterprise, but the children —
two of them — Avere delighted when pressed into the
service of supplying the delicate mortar.

"He secured his position at a comfortable angle,
and all was going on smoothly we supposed, when
suddenly springing to his feet he cried, 'By George! I
can't stand this!' and like showers of hail, the frag-
ments of plaster flew to the four corners of the room.
My aunt was now as attentive as before she had been

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 173

indifferent. We plied him with more questions than he
could answer, but in a general way gathered that the
tumult had been caused by setting -plaster ! The debris
of the disaster was removed and we subsided into our
normal condition for the evening.

"A few days after this, Uncle came in, holding up
rather triumphantly a perfect and shapely cast of his
foot, that he had taken unaided in his office, and said:
'There is the result of a torturing experience; had I
shaved my foot and ankle the other night, I should not
have been defeated.'' ''''

CHAPTER SEYENTEENTH.

/^^ LYNDON'S companionship in the army, and a
^ thousand other fond associations had endeared
him to his father. During the last few weeks in the
army he had been of the greatest comfort to his father,
and he had now become useful and important to him
in many ways.

The year before Doctor Gunn went to Chicago to
remain permanently, he was called in that direction
to see some one who had been injured on the Michigan
Central railroad. During his absence of thirty-six
hours, that fearful accident occurred, by which Glyndon
was drowned! He had been seen to go down, and that
was the last ! We were in a bewildering state of despair,
but there was no escape from our sorrow! Who could
meet the doctor and tell him his* boy was drowned? —
His boy, — for whom he believed that no ambition would
be too great, no achievement impossible! The blow
fell with crushing weight upon him, — it was pitiful to
see him struggle with his grief, and more pitiful were
the sad circumstances he afterward encountered.

174

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 175

He said, "Never while memory lasts can I forget
the hour, when searching hopelessly for some resem-
blance, I laid that poor swollen hand within my own
and rubbed it (God knows how long!) until I found a
litUe scar, that could alone identify my boy ! I might
have known his golden waving hair — but it was damp —
and straight — and unrecognizable! "

It was the most oppressively hot day of that
Summer that Glyndon went down to his boat-house,
accompanied by Highland, a servant, to whom he pro-
posed that they should cross the river. The man,
timid and unable to row, refused at first, but afterward
consented; he was tall, muscular and heavy, and the
boy did all the rowing. Highland thus unoccupied,
was more than anxious to reach the Canadian shore.
Landing at Sandwich, he protested that he would
never go back in the boat.

Glyndon then said: "Well, Highland, if you won't
go back with me, wait here while I row out into the
stream and take a little swim!" At that point where
he jumped from his boat, the river had a strong and
dangerous current. He was seen to once re-enter the
boat and to dive the second time; then it di'ifted away
out of his reach, and that was the last!

176 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

The following lines are taken from a notice in the
"Detroit Free Press" of that date: —

"The unfortunate death of Glyndon Gunn by drown-
ing, a brief notice of which appeared in our paper
yesterday, requires more than a simple passing notice.
He was at the time of his death, about sixteen years of
age, and was, in many respects, a young man of remark-
able promise. For originality of intellect, strength
and vigor of mind and power of analysis, he had, per-
haps, few equals of his age; and he was noted no less
for his singular urbanity of manners and gentlemanly
bearing towards all with whom he was brought in con-
tact, than for his intellectual vigor. Such, indeed, was
the maturity of his intellect, and the soundness of his
judgment, that he became the companion of men far in
advance of his years.

" During the recent rebellion he accompanied his
father to the field, and was with him during four months
of the Peninsular campaign. The officers and soldiers
of Berry's brigade, more particularly the Fifth Regi-
ment of Michigan Infantry, will remember the lad of
then scarcely twelve years of age, who, riding upon his
pony, made the campaign with them from Fortress
Monroe to the front of Richmond, and subsequently,
in their retreat to Harrison's Landing. He will be
remembered by many a grateful soldier who will drop

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 177

a tear over his early death, as the lad who, with un-
wearied exertion, contributed to the comfort of the
famishing soldiers at the memorable battle of Williams-
burg. .....

"The river had peculiar fascinations for him. Pos-
sessed of remarkable mechanical genius, he had had
constructed, after a model of his own devising, a beau-
tiful little craft, and this it was which led him to the
river, and to a sad and untimely death."

12

CHAPTER EIGHTEE]^TH.

\ FTEE the death of Dr. Daniel Brainard, the dis-
-^~~*- tinguished surgeon who had been so long identi-
fied with Rush Medical College, Doctor Gunn was
tendered the chair of surgery, which having accepted,
he came to Chicago to reside. At the inauguration of
the new buildings on the North Side, there was a large
audience present, showing the general interest felt in
the institution.

The President of the College, Professor J. V. Z.
Blaney, delivered the opening address, giving a brief
review of the history of the institution, and speaking
in the warmest terms of admiration and praise of its
lamented founder, and late president, Professor Daniel
Brainard. This was followed by a short, characteristic
speech by the Hon. J. B. Rice (Mayor of Chicago),
which was received with much applause.

Doctor Gunn then gave the welcoming address to
the assemblage, which may have some interest after all
these years, to the alumni and to others Avho were once

his friends.

178

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 179

He said: — "In belialf of my colleagues, I bid you
welcome! Welcome to Chicago, the Young Giant of
the West! Welcome to Rush Medical College, and to
these halls which we this day dedicate to science and
to humanity!

"You compose the twenty-fifth class which has
annually assembled here, on what has become classic
ground, seeking after truth in medicine; truth ever
simple and yet often elusive; which lies not unfre-
quently immediately before us, while with strained
vision we attempt to pierce the dim and smoky distance
to discern it; which from its very simplicity is often-
times completely hidden from a search which looks for
it enshrined in deep and difficult mystery only.

"Annually for the past twenty-five years, in search
of this gem have your predecessors come up hither;
with what success let their individual history in the
teeming north-west, with its cities, villages, and ex-
panded plains, and its ever increasing population, and
also during the late protracted and bloody war, tell.

" Twenty -five years ! In the longest life an extended
measure; in the history of human events, a pitiful
period; and yet, in the early history of a city or a
nation, how important! And if measured by what is
sometimes accomplished, how the little quarter of a

180 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

century seems to sink its fractional character and
assume the dignity of the full and unbroken unit.

" Measured by her growth and achievements, Chi-
cago might well rise to the full period of a century!
What was she when the first little class assembled here
under the auspices of the then infant college ? An old
military post on the extreme north-western frontier had
but recently become recognized as a town. Westward
stretched the rich and undulating plain, on to the
Father of Waters. Eastward the great chain of lakes
afforded communication with the older cities of the
continent. The plodding team of the emigrant, and
the mail of our venerable and common Uncle Samuel,
transported as the exigences of the season and condi-
tion of the roads would permit, constituted the only
means of communication.

"Nestling on either side of the bayou lay the infant
city. No broad avenues stretched off for miles over
the plain, but low upon the oozy surface of the original
prairie lay the yet limited streets. Reared upon posts
stood the young city, the whole aspect verifying the
need which found expression at a later date, when the
characteristic enterprise of the inhabitants rendered
the idea not wholly improbable, to-wit: Issuing propo-
sals and inviting bids for a young earthquake to elevate

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 181

the site to a desirable altitude. No railway network
stretched out to the boundless regions on all sides,
bringing to a common center the more than Indian
wealth of the country, and making here a granary for
half the world. No temples of trade crowded compactly
the streets, and upward towered for more ample accom-
modation. No tunnel, at once the wonder and triumph
of art, penetrated for miles under the majestic lake to
draw from its crystal fountain health and happiness for
half a million.

"No medical halls like these we this day dedicate,
invited such a class as we now welcome; and no iEscu-
lapian orator had caught the spirit of place-glorification,
which outside barbarians assert to be the sign diag-
nostic of a Chicagoan, and held forth to the first class
here assembled with that peculiar and diagnostic mod-
esty. ..... On the contrary, a

small and unpretending building occupied the spot; a
little class of twenty-two students assembled here, and
while the primary faculty were honestly and earnestly
and successfully initiating this great enterprise, they
dared not dream of the magnificent future. To that
first faculty I would here acknowledge, in behalf of the
whole profession, our great indebtedness. But one of
that little band remains with us, and he, honored
among all, is our crown of rejoicing.

182 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

" But if on this ground has grown from a small
beginning, a great city and a great medical college, so
that as compared with the original, the present appears
to 'be a full fruition, we shall find that change and im-
provement are not confined merely to city and college.
The science and art of medicine and surgery has, during
the period which we are contemplating, made such
advances as to elicit the admiration of him who watches
its history, and to excite the pride of its votaries.
The student who sat under the first course of lectures
in this institution, could he be transported over the
interval without, having participated in the advance of
the profession, would find himself utterly bewildered
and unable to understand much that he would hear in
the course of instruction now given. While the whole
scientific world has been pressing forward in pursuit of
undiscovered truth, medical men have not been sur-
passed in industry and zeal, nor have the fruits of their
labors been few or scanty.

"In chemistry alone a new science has almost been
created. Old fields have been re-worked and new ones
explored; and not content with the elements and organ-
isms of the earth as presented in its great laboratory,
swallowing up bodily the new science of geology, and
illustrating that its evidences are but the result of chem-
ical reactions in old earth's chronology, the chemist

MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

183

has pushed his investigations into other spheres and in
his spectral analysis vies with the astronomer in the
study of those remote fields. The domain and labora-
tory of chemistry is the universe!

" Within this period the microscope has mainly
wrought out its great work, and histology now claims
its own peculiar dignity. Under its ministrations, too,
physiology and pathology have extended their bounds
and refined their processes. Physiology then was dis-
patched in a few crude lectures, and these were usually
given by the anatomist. The physiology of the nervous
action had then to offer as its latest and brightest work
the reflex-motor action of Marshall Hall, which the
intelligent physiologist of the present day knows to be
but a single phenomenon in the list of reflex actions.
The reflex influence of impressions upon organic
changes, — nay, the reflex influence of those changes
upon other functions of nutrition ; and the reflex influ-
ence of the normal processes of local nutrition upon
one another; the influence of mind upon matter and
matter upon mind are but the operation of the same
law. An elaborate paper announcing the discovery of
reflex secretory action of the nervous system was pre-
sented to the American Medical Association, at its
session in 1857, by Prof. Campbell, of Georgia. Mar-
shall Hall, himself, admitted the discovery, and hailed

184 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

it as a twin companion of his own, thus publicly
complimenting his young American brother.

*' But it is within the knowledge of your speaker
that the whole subject of reflex nervous influences, of
which excito-motor and excito-secretory actions are
but constituent parts, was taught as early as 1850 in
the University of Michigan by the present incumbent
of the chair of medicine in this institution, Professor
Allen. In his teachings and writings, too, are to be
found the only explicit and comprehensive exposition
of the whole subject of reflex nervous action that has
ever fallen under my observation. Fresh, then, were
the experiments of Beaumont upon the stomach of the
soldier, Alexis St. Martin, which, interesting and valu-
able as they were, have required the scrutiny of
subsequent analysis to correct many of the first conclu-
sions and to expunge not a few gross errors.

"Therapeutics, as a science, has almost been born
within this period. While materia medica was as
colossal (God save the mark ! ) then as now, the philos-
ophy of the action of the remedies, not mere medicines,
has claimed paramount attention, and general therapeu-
tics to-day commands far more study than mere materia
medica. Pharmacy, the hand-maid of materia medica,
as taught and practiced to-day, would hardly be recog-

MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

185

nized by a member of the profession who had indulged
in a Rip Yan Winkle nap. Crude processes and gross
preparations have been supplanted by delicate manipu-
lations and the active principles of medicines. The
doctor no longer bestrides his Rosinante with his
pannier-like saddle-bags stuffed with the crude materiel,
nor does the table in the sick-chamber look like an
apothecary's counter. Organic chemistry enables the
pharmaceutist to fill our prescriptions with efficient,
concentrated and non-repulsive remedies.

"Practical medicine has, also, during the period
which we are considering, undergone a no less marked
change and improvement. A more general and at the
same time clear, definite, and intelligent view, and
application of nervous influence upon normal and ab-
normal action, and the use of such influence in allaying
disease and promoting health ; a more confident reliance
on inherent recuperative power, and the ability to
excite, control, and modify that power and marshal its
forces, and command its aid in the cure of disease; a
much more guarded resort to powerful and uncontrol-
lable means and depleting medicines; a growing
tendency to look to the general conditions of nutrition
as a means of cure, as, for example, in the management
of phthisis and kindred conditions of the system; the
influence of pure air, cleanliness, and light, as seen in

186 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

the management of hospital wards, and sick-chambers,
in private dwellings — all these considerations mark
the progress in medicine since the days when Eberle
wrote, and the mass of the profession in this country
followed his directions, or if differing with him, still
relied as confidently as he on the mysterious power of
medicine to combat and cure disease.

"Surgery, too; has felt the influence of the times.
First in importance, as well as chronologically, is the
discovery of a means of producing a state of complete
anaesthesia, a discovery which was the dawning of a
new era in surgery. Not merely the ability to perform
operations without pain to the patient, or even to per-
form at will hitherto almost impossible operations,
constitutes the limits of this discovery. The relaxa-
tion which attends full anaesthesia, is a condition of
the system which is often-times most desirable and
which was formerly sought to be established, in many
instances, by a resort to nauseants, venesection, and to
the hot bath. Unconsciousness is, at the same time,
frequently desirable, and in this double effect are the
power and influence of anaesthetic agents at once grate-
ful to the patient and valuable to the surgeon. The
honor of this discovery is American. Whether to Drs.
Wells, Morton, or Jackson, individually, appertains the
immediate credit, it is not my purpose to inquire ; it is

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 187

sufficient that it belongs to the period of time which
marks our history, and that it is American.

"That department of surgery which appertains to
the eye has also been marked with the most note-
worthy advances. The ophthalmoscope, alone, has
wrought great changes. It has opened up as rich
placers as did the stethoscope of Laennec in another
department, and at an earlier date. Still more recently,
the laryngoscope has enlarged our means of observa-
tion in another field; while the endoscope, with still
greater enterprise, enables us, almost,

" 'With optics sharp, I ween,
To see what is not to be seen.'

"The late war has also afforded means for success-
ful study, which have not been neglected, and the
accurate observations in reference to the pathology of
pysemia and hospital gangrene, have resulted in such a
development of their pathology, as to direct to a
rational and eminently successful treatment, both pro-
phylactic and curative. In all departments of our
profession, progress has been the watchword, and in
those branches which more nearly approximate the
fixed sciences, and Avhich, consequently, afford fewer
opportunities for advancement, improvement in method,
and refinement in process have been as marked and
decided, as discovery has been in others.

188 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

"But I have not thus alluded to the achievements
of our science in a spirit of vainglory. I would not
underrate the labor and advance of any period previous
to the last quarter of a century. I would not even
attempt a comparison which might be deemed invidi-
ous, between any period and that which I have contem-
plated. Each century, and even each decade, has had
its own success and glory, and extended along through
the whole history of medicine, are the records of labor,
some plainly saying to us, 'This is the way, walk ye in
it'; others, like beacon lights, warning us off the rocks
and sands of error. And so it must continue to be.
As long as there is yet a truth to be discovered, many
failures to a single success must occur. But for every
success there is ample reward, though accompanied by
a thousand failures.

"I have indulged in the line of thought which I
have followed, rather to encourage and stimulate hope-
ful effort on your part. By so much as we have
advantage over those who have preceded us, our suc-
cessors may and probably will realize improvements
upon us. Appreciation of ancient truth does not
demand of us unbounded credulity. It does not
require us to accept as truth all that is ancient, simply
because it is venerable; neither does it expect us to
shut our eyes upon the glory of the present because it

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 189

has not the dust of ages upon it. There is a class of
men, represented largely in our profession, whose
veneration is profound, and leads them to see no good
in the present, except that it was born in the past; who
so constantly exclaim 'There is nothing new under the
sun!' From such veneration, in the language of the
Litany, 'Good Lord deliver us.'

"But, on the other hand, appreciation of modem
discovery does not require us to sneer at the past
because its measure was not full; nor should we make
the mistake of regarding our own period as the culmi-
nating point in the history of medicine. That point
will never be reached. The grand day of science will
have no declining sun; but the glorious orb of truth
will ever rise higher and higher, and shine with ever
increasing refulgence, until the universe shall be
lighted. When shall that be? When all shall be
known; when we shall know even as we are known.
Would you estimate the period by the lapse of ages?
Attempt if you can to conceive of the amount yet
unknown, and when your mind can begin to take in
that conception, then commence to measure the day of
science. We are yet but in the early morning, a morn-
ing to be succeeded by no noon, no evening, but by an
ever brightening day.

"With this conception of the situation, with this

190 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

idea of the relation of the present to the future, there
is no ground for indulgence in vainglory; for vain
indeed would be any glorification which forgets for a
moment the littleness of the present, when compared
to the probabilities of the future. As our perceptions
of temperature are relative only, so our estimate of the
present state of science must be relative. It may be
great compared with the past, but what is it when we
look forward to the possibilities of the future! It is
yet the day of small things, and our pleasure as well
as our duty, should be to work earnestly, as oppor-
tunity offers, and opportunity is not rare; we can
hardly miss it; our fault is rather in a disposition to
select from the mass, than to avail ourselves of that
which is immediately before us. Whatsoever thy hand
findeth to do, do it with thy might! Work is and
must be the motto and lot of every successful man; it
is so par' excellence, with the student in the science of
medicine.

" There is no short high road to advanced learning;
but by study, thought, experiment, and observation,
must the race be won. Most medical men study more
or less ; they are also, as a general rule, good observers ;
a few experiment, but, alas, how very few seem to ihink!
and I confess it has sometimes occurred to me that
those who conduct large series of experiments seem to

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 191

think the least. I have spoken of medical men because
I am speaking to you who are to become such; but I
would not be understood as criticising my professional
brethren as peculiarly disinclined to reflect; this re-
mark applies to all men.

"Mankind is prone to accept the seeming rather
than to search out the real ; to accept a received expla-
nation rather than laboriously to criticise it. It is not
enough to study, to observe, to experiment; we must
do more; and in this connection let me impart this
injunction: — Think! Whatever you do, think! Study,
but think! Observe, but think! And especially, if you
experiment, think!

"It is easy, by study, to possess yourself of the
thoughts of others, to appropriate, assimilate and make
them your own; but you may do this without ever
indulging in the luxury of a thought of your own.
You may observe extensively, and yet, like a crab, you
shall even go backwards for not pondering well uj)on
what you have observed. You may experiment till
you draw down upon your devoted heads the persecu-
tion of a sentimental Bergh and his co-laborers, who
are themselves examples of observation without thought,
and yet never penetrate deeper than the simple fact or
phenomenon which is the immediate result of your
experiment.

192 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

"Therefore, I again repeat, think! Think for your-
selves; contract the habit of thinking, and with the
practice will come increased ability to study, to observe,
and if you choose, to experiment. But while thought
will not take the place of study and observation, it is
the soul of both. Without it, either study or observa-
tion is the Adam into whom the breath of the living
spirit has not yet been infused. It is the ovum without
fecundation, destined only to blight and decay. But
perhaps I should be more explicit in -this injunction.
Men differ in intellectual power, and, in accordance
with this general proposition, you are not all mentally
equal. To one is awarded only mediocre powers, while
on another are bestowed both brilliancy and profundity.
Neither are you all equally advanced in education. To
some, the advantage of free and generous culture has
been abundantly given, while others are struggling in
their course with the impediments incident to an im-
perfect education. In medical advancement too, you
will be found to be widely different. Some are but
just entering upon their course, while others are well
advanced, and are more or less familiar with all matters
appertaining to medical and surgical science.

"It is evident that the ability to think correctly
and advantageously upon the various subjects of your
study and observation will vary with the different

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 193

orders of intellect, and the varying degrees of culture.
Still my advice applies to all. None need be so defi-
cient, if at all qualified to pursue medical studies, as to
accept all that he hears, reads, or observes, as truth so
positive and unqualified as to need no other effort of
mind than that involved in the act of appropriation.
The merest neophyte, though incapable of calling in
question anything that is presented to his understand-
ing, should, by earnest thought, endeavor to detect the
reason for whatever he hears, or reads, or observes.
Not only will this mental process fix the subject of his
thought, and constitute in itself the most perfect
means of assimilation, but it will prove a method of
mental training that will develop power and facilitate
future effort.

"As the student advances in his course, and attains
a standard of acquirement that gives him a stock of
well established and undoubted truths, he should, in
addition to the search for the reason of things, compare
his results with these standard truths, and thus another
step in advance is taken. His stock of the actual is
constantly increasing; and not the actual only, but the
reason thereof, and the relation which it sustains to
other facts and phenomena. Prove all things, hold
fast that which is good. Accept nothing because you
hear it, or read it, or even see it. Subject all things

194 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

to careful mental analysis, and finally, believe, not
because you have read, heard, or seen, but because it is
recommended, per se, to your individual judgment. Let
your religious belief be a matter of faith, but let me
warn you against receiving your scientific creed on the
same basis.

"Faith is an excellent quality in your patient, for
oftentimes he will be obliged to indulge in the sub-
stance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not
seen ; but on your part it Avill be better both for science
and humanity that you believe nothing, literally nothing,
till proven. As students sitting at the feet of your
Gamaliel, even though you may have good reason to
distrust your own judgment, and feel greater, far
greater, confidence in the author you read, or the pro-
fessor you hear, still make the effort to go through the
process which I have recommended, before finally de-
ferring and believing. You will thus strengthen your
own power and gradually acquire independence and
accuracy of thought. You will acquire, too, the power
of discrimination, the power of weighing and compar-
ing before deciding. The medical man finds a great
amount of conflicting, or apparently conflicting evi-
dence, and like the jurist, he must weigh, compare and
sift out, reject this, and accept that; all, too, in accord-
ance with established law. Thus the law becomes

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 195

purified by rejection, and amplified and perfected by
slow crystallization. Our circle of knowledge is ex-
panded and the domain of truth is enlarged.

"Another habit of thought should be cultivated,
viz., the seeking after the soul of the truth. As there
is a soul of goodness even in things evil, so there is an
innermost kernel to all subjects, an element by which
and through which they differ fi'om all other similar
subjects with which they might be confounded; it is in
virtue of this element that truthfulness exists. A
clear and definite conception of this element only will
enable you to master a given subject; and so long as
you fail to detect it, the real truth remains hidden from
your view. A loose, general, and vague idea you may
have, even as one sees an object through a foggy
atmosphere, without being able to discern its exact
form, its individuality. It is the fault of many minds
to be satisfied with such a view, and to neglect the
labor incident to the full defining of the picture. It
may be that all effort will fail in some instances to
bring out the details clearly; but the effort should,
nevertheless, be made to attain a clear and definite per-
ception of what I have termed the soul of the truth.

"To illustrate: — Volumes have been written, and
more said on the subject of inflammation; all the phe-
nomena thereof have been enumerated and the changes

196 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

rung on them. Concise definitions have been attempted
and criticised ; and by some it has been said that such
a thing as a correct definition of the subject was an
impossibility. All observers, of any experience what-
ever, recognize an inflammation when they see it, and
yet many fail to discern in just what it consists. Let
us now make an effort to obtain a view of some one
circumstance in reference to inflammation, by which it
differs fi'om all other similar conditions. It is not pain,
heat, redness, nor swelling, nor all of them that con-
stitutes the condition under consideration, for any one
or even all of them may be present without the part
being in such a state.

" The blush which mantles the cheek of shocked
and offended modesty, when extreme, may cause it to
burn and tingle with heat and pain, while the actual
engorgement of the vessels supplies the redness and
swelling. Blood may flow in greatly increased quanti-
ties to and through a part, invited to do so by an
increased activity of normal local nutrition, producing
even hypersemia. This may serve a temporary and
useful purpose, examples of which Avill occur to the
mind of any medical man ; or, it may, if long continued,
result in hypertrophy of a part; bat so long as the
local nutrition is only stimulated and increased in ac-
tivity, so long as the advance and retrograde changes

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 197

exactly balance each other, there is no inflammation.
But the instant that this active hypersemia is attended
by oppression and impairment of local nutrition, in-
flammation begins, and in this impairment or suspension
it consists. Just so soon as normal local nutrition is
again established, inflammation has ceased, even though
active hyper^emia may yet remain. This is the key to
the whole subject. It is the soul of fhe iridh.

"Another illustration: — You attempt the study of
ulceration; you read author after author; you watch
the process at the clinic, and the probabilities are that
you will obtain a confused idea of disintegration of
tissue, mortification in miniature, and absorption, at-
tended by suppuration. Confusion worse confounded!
But careful observation of the process, in numerous
instances, and correct analysis of what you observe and
read will clear up the subject, and isolate the identical
characteristic of ulceration. Disintegration of tissue in
particles, or mortification in miniature is not ulceration,
for, pathologically, mortification is the same whether
in miniature or on a colossal scale. Suppuration,
although a frequent attendant on ulceration, is not a
necessary part of the process. By observing the
ulcerative process you will see that tissue disappears,
sometimes without crumbling away by mortification in
miniature or even being attended by suppuration.

198 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

What has become of it? It is not volatile, and can not
have vaporized; only one other* method of disappear-
ance is left, and that is by absorption; an absorption
that destroys the integrity of tissue; and here we
arrive at the isolated characteristic of ulceration, viz.,
destructive absorption of tissue. In this it consists
and in no other process.

"Thus, you should think; reflect upon each and
every subject which you enter upon, and endeavor to
arrive at the soul of the truth.

" But there is one matter especially which I earn-
estly recommend you to carefully consider and endeavor
fully and perfectly to comprehend. It is expressed
in the answer to the question, What is disease, and
how can it be prevented, alleviated, cured? I do not
purpose to attempt an answer to this question at this
time. That answer will be found permeating the whole
course of instruction which you will receive in this
college.

"But I warn you against regarding disease as a
subtle essence which invades and permeates the animal
being, to be charmed away by incantations or other
spiritual means, on the one hand; or on the other, as a
hydra-headed monster which, in various forms, enters
the fair citadel, to be ejected only by medicinal pota-
tions, either great or small. Learn rather to look upon

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 109

the human fabric as a delicate organism, for a time the
seat of a vital force, which, springing from the throne
of the Omnipotent, wrests matter from the action and
sway of mere chemical affinities, seizes chemical laws
and harnesses them to its own work; permitting them
to have full and unrestricted action in one place, modi-
fying and controlling them in another, while in still
another they are bound hand and foot; and the ele-
ments, like the lion and the lamb, are made to lie
down together in peace and harmony.

"This intricate and delicate organization is the seat
of numerous functions all subservient to the existence
of the whole, and playing upon one another by a sys-
tem of direct and reflex influences, which in harmoni-
ous action, conserve the object of its creation — a limited
existence. A derangement in any single function exerts
its influence upon others, and thus, by destroying the
harmonious action of all, tends to shorten even the
natural limit of existence. This is disease. To learn
to detect it in its primary and all its secondary lesions,
and to correct it — to recognize the causes which pro-
duce it, in order to obviate them, is your mission. In
that mission I bid you God speed, and in behalf of my
colleagues, I pledge you our hearty cooperation and
assistance."

CHAPTER NINETEENTH.

A FEW years after its inauguration, the new college
-^^ was destroyed in the Chicago fire. Doctor Gunn's
office was in the building. Among the things he lost,
most valued, and that could not be replaced, was a cabi-
net of handsomely mounted anatomical specimens, the
careful collection of years, and the manuscript of a work
on surgery nearly ready for publication. His distaste
for the mechanical part of writing, together with the
now almost impossible task of again gathering his data,
discouraged its resuscitation. He encountered many
difficulties; among them his library was gone, his sur-
gical practice was scattered and much of it lost; for a
time it seemed that everything was lost ! But his house
was left, and there he established his office. Directly
after the calamity, he said "I shall have to begin all
over again and be a candidate for general practice."
But reflection made him hesitate, and he finally con-
cluded not to enter the general field.

Every one, who ever had any interest in it, is aware
of the Faculty's struggles while in a temporary build-

200

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 201

ing constructed "under the side- walk" on Eighteenth
street. In a few years a still finer college than the
one destroyed was erected on the West Side; later the
Presbyterian Hospital, which adjoins the college build-
ing, and whose staff is composed substantially of the
college faculty, was also established. Doctor Gunn's
early connection with, and great interest in this hos-
pital would have given him untold satisfaction and
pleasure in seeing it completed by the magnificent
addition of the "Jones Memorial Building." I am not
anxious to attribute an undue share of influence to the
doctor, but the colleges and hospitals with which he
had been connected, had always engaged his best
efforts, and his strongest energies were given to Eush
College in its dark, as well as in its palmiest days.

One of his colleagues once said to me: — " The only
thing I have against your husband, is, that he will
not make notes of his surgical cases and occasionally
publish those of importance."

In his address at the opening of the present session
of Kush Medical College, Dr. Senn said of Doctor
Gunn: — "He left no encyclopedia of medicine, but his
little pamphlet of less than twenty-five pages contains
more learning than volumes that many others have
compiled."

Remembering that Doctor Gunn was not fond of the

202 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

mechanical part of writing, the following articles are
probably all pertaining to his profession that have ever
been published. They were sent to me by Dr Billings
from the library of the Surgeon General's Office,
through the courtesy of Dr. Baxter: —

ARTICLES WRITTEN BY MOSES GUNN, M.D.

Philosophy of Certain Dislocations of the Hip and Shoul-
der, AND their Reduction. "Peninsular Journal of
Medicine," Ann Arbor, 1853-4, I, pp. 95-100.

Reprinted with some additions in the same journal

1855-6, III, pp. 27-35.
Reprinted in pamphlet form, 1855.
Reprinted with further additions. " Peninsular and
Independent Medical Journal," 1859-60, II, pp.
193-206.
Reprinted in pamphlet form 1859.
Second edition, printed in 1869.
Selections from Surgical Notes. "Medical Independent,"

Detroit, 1857-8; III, pp. 67, 186, 257, 377, 469, 575.
Selections from Surgical Notes. " Peninsular and Inde-
pendent Medical Journal," Detroit, 1858-9; I, pp. 464-
467: 1859-60; II, pp. 140-143.

Doctor Gunn was one of the editors of the " Monthly
Independent," Detroit, 1857-8, III; and of the "Penin-

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 203

sular and Independent Medical Journal," 1858-9, I; and
1859-60, II; and was the author of numerous editorials in
these journals, usually signed "G."

Address of Welcome to Eush Medical College delivered
October 1, 1867. " Chicago Medical Journal," 1867,

XXIV, pp. 499-512.

Valedictory Address, Rush Medical College, 1870-71.
Ibid, 1871, XXVIII, pp. 157-169; also reprinted.

Surgical Clinic of Eush Medical College. Ibid, 1874,
XXXI, pp. 560, 725.

Discussion of Dr. Gross' paper on Syphilis. "Transactions
American Medical Association." Philadelphia, 1874,

XXV, p. 243.

Case of Traumatic Tetanus, St. Joseph's Hospital. " Chi-
cago Medical Journal and Examiner," 1875, XXXII,
pp. 421-426.

Address in Surgery and Anatomy, delivered May 8, 1879.
"Transactions American Medical Association," Philadel-
phia, 1879, XXX, pp. 479-493.

Eeport of a Case of Purulent Effusion into Knee -Joint.
Ibid, 1879, XXX, p. 517.

Treatment of Fractures of the Skull, Eecent and Chronic,
WITH Depression. Eead June 1, 1882. " Transactions
of the American Surgical Association," 1881-83. Phila-
delphia, 1883, I, pp. 83-90.

204 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

The Doctorate Address on Medical Ethics. "Chicago
Medical Journal and Examiner," 1883. XLVI, pp.
337-352. Also reprinted.

The Philosophy or Manipulation in the Reduction of Hip
AND Shoulder Dislocations. " Transactions American
Surgical Association," (1884). 1885. II, pp. 399-419;
also in "Chicago Medical Journal and Examiner,"
1874, XL VIII, pp. 449-468. Also reprinted.

The Union of Nerves of Different Function Considered
in its Pathological and Surgical Relations. Address
of the President, delivered April 28th, 1886. " Trans-
actions American Surgical Association," 1886. IV, pp.
1-13.

Doctor Gunn also took part in the discussion of many
of the papers published in volumes I, II, and III of the
Transactions of the American Surgical Association.

Between Professor Allen and Doctor Gunn the
closest personal attachment had existed for years. Dr.
A once said to me, "I know more about your hus-
band, than any one living, unless it is yourself, and
possibly in some things even more than you." This
remark led me to build hopes of at least one chapter,
upon his knowledge. The reminiscences he would
have given, he has not been able to furnish on account
of a painful and lingering indisposition.

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 205

Aware of the incompleteness of these sketches
without something from Dr. Allen, the only alternative
is to include his brief synopsis of Doctor Gunn's
biography up to 1876, contained in a volume of "The
United States Biographical Dictionary." Necessarily
some of these references will be repeated in my own
allusions, and in the mention, by others, of certain
incidents in his life.

"Moses Gunn, occupant of the chair of Principles
and Practice of Surgery and Clinical Surgery in Rush
Medical College, Chicago, a native of East Bloomfield,
was born on the 20th of April, 1822, the son of Linus
and Esther Gunn, both of whom were natives of Massa-
chusetts, the Gunns tracing their ancestry through a
long line of Scottish lairds into the depths of olden
times.

"A very thorough academical education interrupted
by an illness that wasted him to a shadow scarcely to
be conceived of by one who now looks upon his robust
and powerful physique, was followed by a course of
professional study in Geneva Medical College, where
he was graduated in 1846. He was accompanied on
his journey to the West, by the cadaver of a huge
African in one of his very innocent-looking trunks,

206 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

which, however, excited the ire of the driver as being
as heavy as a passenger.

" He arrived at Ann Arbor, Michigan, in February,
1846, and contemporaneously with beginning practice,
commenced the first systematic course of anatomical
lectures ever given in that State, before a class of
twenty-five or thirty students. The course was repeated
for three successive years, until the organization of the
medical department of the University of Michigan,
when he was elected professor of surgery by a very
flattering vote, although there was strong and active
competition,

" For three years he gave the lectures upon both
anatomy and surgery, the annual course extending to
nearly seven months. During this period, in addition
to attendance upon a laborious and constantly increasing
practice, he acquired an accurate and fluent acquaint-
ance with the German language, which has now become
almost as familiar to him as his vernacular.

"In 1848 Doctor Gunn was married to Jane Augusta
Terry, only daughter of J. M. Terry, M.D.

" In 1853 he removed to Detroit, still retaining his
chair in the university until his final removal to Chi-
cago in 1867. In 1856 he received the honorary degree
of A.M. from Geneva College.

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 207

"In 1857 he became senior editor of the " Medical
Independent," a journal which made its mark upon the
literature of the time, and, its mission being fulfilled,
was consolidated with another medical periodical, of
which for some time he was joint editor.

"In the winter he made a series of dissections and
experiments with a view to determine .what particular
tissue opposes the effort to reduce dislocations of the
hip joint. These experiments and dissections were
repeated before the medical class of that and subse-
quent sessions, and its results embodied and read before
the Detroit Medical Society in the summer of 1853,
and also published in the "Peninsular Medical Jour-
nal" in September of that year. From the following
quotation the professional reader will at once be able
to recognize the great practical as well as scientific
value of this investigation, and it will also put at rest
the question of priority which has occasionally been
raised : —

"' The principle, then, I would seek to establish is
this: that in luxation of the hip and shoulder, the un-
torn portion of the capsular ligament, by binding down
the head of the dislocated bone, prevents its ready
return over the edge of the cavity to its place in the
socket; and that this return can be easily effected by
putting the limb in such a position as will effectually

208 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

approximate the two points of attachment of that portion
of the ligament which remains untorn.'

"Some little idea of the industry and arduous
labors of Doctor Gunn may be gained from the fact
that whilst conducting a large and successful practice
in Detroit, he visited Ann Arbor twice a week to de-
liver his lecture on surgery (having in 1854 been
relieved from lecturing on anatomy), and in so doing,
up to the time of resigning his chair in 1867, he had
travelled a distance of upwards of fifty-six thousand
miles.

"Aside from his lectures at Ann Arbor, his reputa-
tion as a skillful and accomplished surgeon had so
widely extended that, notwithstanding the disadvantages
of the location of the college in a small inland town,
his clinics were thronged by patients, some from very
great distances, and afforded many illustrations of
severe and difficult operations.

" The first class that Doctor Gunn lectured to at
that institution in 1850-1 numbered ninety-two, even
this being deemed a remarkable success. The last
class, 1866-7, he there instructed, numbered five hun-
dred and twenty-five, probably the largest class
assembled in the United States that year. It is not
too much to say that to Doctor Gunn more than to any
other one person was due this unexampled prosperity.

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 209

"In order to familiarize himself with the details of
military surgery, Doctor Gnnii entered the military
service of the United States the 1st of September, 1861,
accompanying General McClellan through the Penin-
sular campaign, and on several occasions rendering
most efficient service. During a three weeks' leave of
absence he gave fifty lectures at the university, con-
veying a vast fund of useful information to the students,
a large number of whom were then preparing for the
field.

"In the Spring of 1867 he accepted an earnest invi-
tation to occupy the chair he now holds in Kush
Medical College, it having been rendered vacant by the
death of the distinguished surgeon and teacher, Daniel
Brainard, M.D. He accordingly removed to Chicago
where he has since resided. In this position it is per-
haps sufficient to say that he has achieved marked
distinction and high success. His reputation is now
firmly established, and national, both as a practical
surgeon and teacher. The present prosperity of Kush
Medical College is largely due to his business energy,
professional skill and personal popularity as a teacher.

"Doctor Gunn's success as a surgeon depends upon
his wonderfully minute and accurate acquaintance with
anatomy, combined with exquisite power of diagnosis,
a cool head, steady muscles, and great mechanical

210 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

genius. He is never at a loss for apparatus, and invents
models, off-hand, that would make the fortune of a
patent-right seller. His instrumental paraphernalia,
straps and splints, springs and bandages, always fit the
variety of the species, and not merely the class and the
order.

"As an operator he is bold and dextrous, handling
the scalpel with the delicacy of an artist's pencil, and
yet the strength of iron muscle ; but withal never trusts
to these, but guards against the chance of failure by
careful attention to those really indispensable details
which, being too often neglected, cause brilliant opera-
tions to be succeeded by ignominious results.

"As an instance of his energy and decision may be
mentioned an incident personally known to the present
writer, then a colleague. There was to be a faculty
meeting in the evening. In the morning Doctor Gunn
was called to a case of strangulated hernia, thirty -two
miles away. Of course his attendance was given up;
but promptly at the hour he was present for business.
He had driven in his sulky over Michigan roads to the
patient's residence, but the attending physician had not
yet arrived; the case was urgent, and, assisted only by
the patient's wife, he operated successfully, dressed the
wound, consigned the patient to the tardy doctors he
met at the door, and in eleven hours from the morn-

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 211

ing's start was quietly asking for the business of the
evening.

"Personally, Doctor Gunn has the advantage of a
fine figure and an air distingu6. In lecturing, rapid,
emphatic, mindful of his subject, clear in statement,
giving confidence to his auditors of thorough master-
ship. In conversation, somewhat abrupt, occasionally
abstracted, a reserve sometimes taken for hauteur (of
which he possesses not a particle), he gains no popu-
larity by seeking it, and labors under the too common
hallucination that a man should be taken for what he
is, rather than for what he assumes.

"If he had devoted his life to mere business he
would have been a millionaire. If he had taken up the
army he would have been a general, knowing no such
word as fail, and never being caught in an ambuscade.
Still in the prime of life, energetic, scholarly, having
both brains and position, he has yet a noteworthy future
before him."

CHAPTER TWENTIETH.

TN the winter of 1879 Doctor Guiin was dangerously
^ ill from pyaemia. It was a time of great apprehen-
sion ; few if any of his brother physicians believed he
would recover. How kind they were — some of them
remaining with him night after night! Under similar
circumstances came like and later kindnesses which
will never be forgotten.

That perilous morning is engraven on my mind. It
was about day-break. I was alone with my husband,
when he said: "You will have to get the props under
me soon or it will be too late." I was almost par-
alyzed to find him cold and sinking. I gave him
brandy, but not as much as he needed; I w^as anything
but composed, but ran to the next room, rang the stable
bell, told the man to harness and go for Dr. A .

When the doctor arrived, I knew he was alarmed, but
he quietly sat down by the bedside of his old friend,
and commenced giving him stimulants. It was not
very long before the doctor rallied. Turning to Dr.
A he said " Old fellow, I know you would have

212

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 213

hated to have me slip through your fingers!" then
added, "The world is a pretty good place and I am not
sorry to stay in it a while longer." Some kindly and
affectionate remarks then passed between them.

Doctor Gunn's arm troubled him for months after-
ward, but by the latter part of February he began again
to lecture. The first day he appeared before the class,
the amphitheatre was decorated with flowers, and the
doctor was welcomed with enthusiasm.

The following May, some physicians were about
starting on a European trip, and he was urged to make
one of their number. He needed the journey, in fact
it was the very thing he most needed, but hesitated on
account of a rash statement he had made to his wife,
that he should never go abroad without her! This
objection, however, was speedily overruled by her, and

his arrangments were made accordingly. Dr. M ,

who had frequently crossed the ocean, proposed this
time trying the advantages or disadvantages of Cook's
Tours, in which they all acquiesced. Some days later

Mrs. H meeting Doctor Gunn on the street, she

said to him, "Doctor, I hear you are going to Europe;
shall you take Mrs. Gunn?" With a twinkle of his
eye he replied, " O, No! / am goinci for pleasure!''''

Before leaving, the doctor announced that however
unattractive letter-writing was to him, he should write

214 , MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

every Sunday, and think of his wife all the time.
Another rash statement, possibly, but one which, in
regard to the frequency of writing, he more than
carried out.

"At Sea, Steamer 'Gallia,'
"Lat. 44-35°, Long. 44-8°, June 1, 1879.
" You notice we are about mid-ocean. It is Sunday
evening, eight o'clock and after dinner. I am seated at
the table in the cabin to write my first Sunday's letter.
I suppose that you are now writing to me and that I
shall receive the letter in Dublin, two weeks from
to-morrow. .... We have had a

remarkably pleasant voyage thus far, nothing rougher
than you and I experienced on the Gulf last year. Dr.

R has been out to-day for the first time since we

embarked; unfortunately he has suffered from seasick-
ness, while the rest of us have been undisturbed in the
enjoyment of our meals. The ship and her appoint-
ments are perfect. Wednesday, Thursday and Friday
were clear days, to-day has been rainy. Yesterday
I saw six whales; two of them spouted, and I realized
the ideas given by the illustrations. To-day we have
had service on board, read by the surgeon of the ship.
Prayers were read for the President of the United

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 215

States; also for Albert Edward, Prince of Wales, and
all the Eoyal Family.

"We have a large load of passengers; among them
Rev. DeWitt Talmage, accompanied by his wife and
daughter, whose acquaintance I have made and find
them agreeable people. There is also a Scotchman
and his wife from D who started from home accom-
panied by a daughter who was to make the trip with
them. She was engaged to be married this coming
Autumn. Her fianc^ came as far as Chicago to bid her
good-bye, but instead, while in the city procured a

license, married the girl and took her back to D .

The mother, naturally, was quite indignant at their
haste and says she gave him a bit of her mind. I
said, ' So you gave him a foretaste of the mother-in-
law? ' ' Indeed I did,' replied she.

"I have indulged in a good bit of gossip for me.
I thought of you when you were
probably praying for me in church, making allowance
for difference in time, when at your dinner, etc. My
mind is scarcely ever absent from you, but still I
am enjoying every moment, and anticipating much
pleasure. Probably we shall land at Queenstown on
Thursday or Friday next, and remain in Cork till
Monday. I shall add to, and finish this letter before
landing, that it may go with the first mail to London

210 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

and then to the United States. You will get it about
the twentieth."

^^ Monday Evening, 2nd. — I wish I could telephone
and keep you daily advised of my movements. Another
day on the whole favorable, head winds, and some sea,
but nothing to disturb the passengers, most of whom
are now seen at the tables. Opposite to me reading
sits Mrs. AV from Chicago; at my right, also read-
ing, sits Dr. R Avho has fully recovered from his

sea-sickness. . ^ . . Both Mr. and Mrs.

Talmage are agreeable in conversation. Mrs. T

tells a darkey story capitally.

"At noon to-day we had made three hundred and
forty-two miles, in the last twenty-four hours, and are
at Lat. 47-8° and Long. 36-54°. I tell you this, so that
you can pick out our position on the map. We expect
to land at Queenstown Thursday afternoon."

" Wednesday, 3:30 P. M. — Four and a half hours
over one week at sea, and all has gone well. Tell

M I have seen six whales, and two of them spout!

Last evening we had a concert gotten up by volunteers
for the benefit of some Sailor Orphan Asylum in
Liverpool. It was amusing enough but hardly of
supreme artistic merit. We are now within four hun-
dred miles of Cape Clear, have had head-winds all

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 217

the way, except four or five hours one day, when we
derived a little benefit from our sails. Still we have
made about three hundred and fifty miles every twenty-
four hours, and our party has all been well excepting

Dr. K .

"The tables are very well filled, and, as many of the
passengers have become acquainted, the evening din-
ner, which lasts about an hour and a half, is a lively,
noisy scene, not unlike an evening party, where all is
a confusion of voices. The fare is varied and excel-
lent, but although I have been well, and have had a
voracious appetite, it is getting monotonous, and I
shall not be sorry to get on land again. The same
routine of sleeping and eating, and very little read-
ing will not prove continuously entertaining; card
playing I detest, so that exhaustless source of amuse-
ment to many on board is unavailing to me. A mail
bag is being made up for Liverpool; I finish this to
be forwarded from there." .....

"QuEENSTOWN, Juue 6ih, 1879.
"We arrived here last night, or rather this morn-
ing at 1 :30, and were met by our conductor who had
rooms provided for us at the Queen's Hotel and break-
fast in a private parlor this morning, and O! how
exceedingly funny is this intensely Irish town ; beggars

218 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

who blarney and beg all in the same breath. I have
seen bnt little of the town. I write now to get in an
additional letter as the foreign mail closes at twelve.

"Yesterday, our last at sea, was rainy, and as no
observation conld be made at noon, and as we were
approaching the coast in a fog, it was to me a matter
of some interest, at least; bnt when at last our proud
ship put her nose right in the passage between the
Irish Cliffs and Fastnet light, which loomed grandly
through obscurity up in the mist, I felt a warm admi-
ration for the brain which piloted us across the track-
less deep.

"We go to Cork to-morrow and remain there till
Wednesday. I am sitting in the parlor of the Queen's ;
at a table opposite, a very pretty Irish woman with
banged fore-top is also writing; she politely offered me
a pen as I sat down to the table. Think of it ! although
we stayed twenty-four hours in New York, we slept in
Ireland on the twelfth night after saying good-bye to
you in Chicago." ....

"Cork, Ireland,
^^ Sunday Afternoon, June 8th, 1879.
"By my second letter, which undoubtedly will be
received with the first, you will see we landed in
Queenstown ahead of the contemplated time. However,

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 219

we were met, though at midnight, by Mr. Cook's agent
and guide, /. e., both in one person, and by him con-
ducted to our hotel where he had secured rooms for us.
The advantages of travelling in this way we have
chosen, were manifest here, as one or two at least of the
many passengers who landed at the same time and place,
have not been able to get a room. Ours being secured
in advance, we had none of that strife which the others
were obliged to encounter. Friday and Saturday fore-
noons were spent in Queenstown. The harbor is beau-
tiful, and the town, which is planted on a succession of
terraces on the side of the bluff, is a strange combina-
tion of charming difficulties and remunerating views.
But, O! the Irish of it! I feel that I can hardly speak
without getting off something wid a brogue in it.

"Yesterday afternoon we came here and are lodged
at the 'Imperial.' An Irish hotel is of course like the
English in type and it is odd enough. I cannot stop to
describe or criticise, but as yet, to me, the type is not
agreeable. Everything is excellent, but the loay of the
thing is not quite acceptable ; perhaps it will become so.

"I have just lunched on some cold mutton that
fully realized my idea of English mutton although it
was raised, killed, and cooked in Ireland! I told you
the other day the beggars were at hand on all occasions ;
one must have a pocketful of pennies to bestow upon

220 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

tliem. Tlieir appeals are very droll. The other day
on leaving the hotel, I was accosted by one of the male
persuasion whose petition was, ' Plaze, sur, giv a thrifle
to a poor ould man wid a thronble in his bones.' A
little further on a vigorous middle-aged woman ap-
pealed thusly: 'God bliss the grand gintlemon!' To-
day a barefooted woman with a babe in her arms crossed
the street to intercept our passage with : ' For the love
of God, giv a copper to buy bread for the childers ! "

"I went to church this morning, but, I fear, not to
pray, but to see the old church of St. Ann's, otherwise
' Shandon,' and to hear the chimes. Yes, I have heard
the Chimes of Shandon ! I have looked at ' The Bells
of Shandon,' have climbed the tower and looked out over
the ancient City of Cork. The bells are sweet and the
church plain and poor, but the poem rang incessantly
in my ear as from the tower of Shandon I looked out
over the Lee. The river Lee is very beautiful from
Queenstown all the way (about twelve miles) to this
place.

"Yesterday on a boat excursion, on the river from
Queenstown, a beautiful Irish girl, with a clear com-
plexion and a lithe and slender figure, neatly dressed
in a long, close-fitting cloth coat, with a bit of a hand-
kerchief peeping out of her breast pocket, came on
board at one of the landings. Her beauty and her

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 221
quiet and modest behavior, quite took young C

and old G ! off their feet! We were standing

together as the boat approached the wharf, and added
to the above outline we saw just upon a level with our
eyes a neat foot in a well-fitting boot unobscured by a
train. A walking suit enabled her to move with ease
and grace, while we admired at a respectful distance.
We indulged in our amazement till the vision disap-
peared at one of the landings, and then we recalled a
story which a quaint old New Hampshire member of
our party told on shipboard. It ran thus: A wife
whose husband was obliged to travel in Pennsylvania,
on bidding him good-bye said, 'John, when the ankles
of the Dutch girls begin to look slender to you, ifs time
fo come home.''

"This morning as we wandered about, we thought
and said, how nice it would be to have our wives
here to enjoy this with us. Indeed I hardly see any-
thing without wishing I had you here to see it with
me. .... I am feeling well, have

had no unpleasant symptoms as yet, and if you were
with me, I think my cup of happiness would be full.
To-morrow our conductor comes on again from Qneens-
town with a second edition of our party who are to
arrive in one of the Inman steamers. I understand
there is one loomaa in the expected addition.

222 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

"On Tuesday we shall visit Blarney Castle; on
Wednesday start for Killarney. M and I dis-
cussed this morning the advantages of this mode of
taking a tour. It is an easy way, we are relieved of
everything, no tickets to buy, no servants to fee, in
short we have nothing to do but enjoy ourselves and

encounter beggars. How much fun W would get

out of these Irishmen! I can't remember a hundredth
part of the queer things I see and hear.

KiLLAKNEY, Tuesday, June 12th, 1879.

" Here at Killarney I have just finished my dinner,
which was at half-past six, and as we are six hours
earlier than you, I suppose you are just over your
lunch. It still seems strange to find myself in Ireland.
I can hardly realize that nearly one quarter of the
distance around the globe separates us. My last letter
was from Cork, which place we left yesterday morning
at nine o'clock, in the rain, and at eleven-thirty were
at Drimoleague where we took a stage. Fortunately
the rain had stopped and we all chose the top of the
vehicle, even the woman ! which I have forgotten
whether I mentioned as being the only one in our
party.

"Well, the trip was surprisingly beautiful to Ban-
try on Bantry Bay, where we lunched. From there we

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 223

skirted the head of the bay to Glengariff, the great,
barren, rocky mountains which we had climbed and the
spurs of which we were now crawling around, looming
up on the one hand, and the picturesque bay on the
other, both forming a landscape which combined the
beautiful and the sublime. Arrived at our hotel on
the shores of Glengariff harbor we found a lovely
situation. At our feet we had the waters of the harbor,
with their rocky inlets and shores, while on the opposite
side towered grandly up barren, rocky peaks which
formed a magnificent chain of mountains. The day
had been one replete with pleasure, it was a red-letter
day in our experience. When I looked upon this scene,
which I have only touched, for I cannot attempt a de-
scription, I thought as I almost constantly do, 'Why
cannot my wife be here to enjoy this with me?' But a
truce to vain imaginings. .....

"This morning broke grand and bright, and when I
looked out of my window the sun was gilding the tops
of the opposite mountains, while we were in the shade.
After a good breakfast we mounted a wagonette which
carried eleven persons besides the driver; three good
horses constituted our team, and we started off in fine
spirits. Our course lay up the magnificent mountain
range which we had seen before us. At the height of
thirteen hundred feet we passed through a tunnel to

224 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

the other side of the mountain. The scenery is beyond
description. These mountains are barren rocks either
entirely without vegetation or covered with heather.
Great rocky ledges loom up in grandeur while we
crawl winding along and around their sides on a road
as smooth as the boulevards and a hundred times
harder. These roads are simply perfect. I have not
seen a rood of bad road in Ireland.

" We lunched at Kenmare, and as this is at the foot
of the range on the other side, we had to begin a simi-
lar ascent over a very similar formation and to an
equal height, passing through another though shorter
tunnel and then descending gradually till we reached
the lakes of Killarney. To the east of this spot the
country seems greatly improved, speaking from an
agricultural point of view, while to the west and south
from this point over which we have just travelled the
mountains are the highest in the island, one peak,
which we had in view a greater part of the afternoon,
being three thousand four hundred feet high.

" I cannot speak of the lakes. I have seen so much
I can hardly tell you any thing, but will try to do so
Sunday when I write again. Of to-day's trip I can
only say, it surpassed all my dreams. I have been in
a constant state of wonder since starting out this morn-
incr. It will take time to assimilate and reduce to

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 225

order all these neAv impressions. I have seen enough
to-day to last a lifetime. I am in a sort of dazed con-
dition, which I thought to clear up by writing to you,
but have run on about these scenes that have en-
grossed my attention and am not much better settled
in my feelings. .... I hope to find

a letter from you in Dublin on Monday evening.

KiLLARNEY, June loth, 1879.

"My last was written after my arrival here on
Thursday evening; since then we have had two glo-
rious days, and now after attending the Episcopal
Church here, and having since then lunched, I am in
my room to keep my promise good for writing.
My family are arranged on the mantel just at my right.

I seem to have been gone three
months ! and yet it is only three weeks ! I have wished
for a telephone to give you my experience with electric
speed, writing is so slow.

"We have been especially favored regarding weather
and yet we have passed only two days without some
rain. On Friday we visited the ruins of Aghadoe,
made the pass of Dunloe, where at the entrance stands
the cottage of Kate Kearney, lunched at a little island
at the head of the upper lake, passed down the lakes
and in the lower one visited the ruins of an old Abbey

15

226 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

on Innisfallen island, and the ruins of Eoss Castle.
The day was perfect and the scenery simply grand.
I cannot describe it in detail, for it would take too much
writing.

"Yesterday w^e went to the ruins of Muckross
Abbey which are well preserved and are extremely in-
teresting, did several islands and Lord Kenmare's
park, and just got home to dinner. Two days of sight-
seeing found me very tired last night and I slept well.
We lunched yesterday in a romantic spot just about
the time you were at breakfast. I thought of you
while I was lunching, and calculated the time and
derived pleasure at the thought. I have collected pho-
tographs of such points as interested me most, and of
the lunching place of yesterday.

" To-morrow we go to Dublin, but it is not necessary
to write this, for w^e adhere to our schedule very closely,
so you can follow us accurately if you wish, making
allowance of six hours in our favor, i. e., we dine six
hours in advance of you, at six-thirty, which would be
at twelve-thirty, with you, your lunch hour; w^hen you
are lunching, our afternoon has passed and we are
dining. It is now three-thirty ; while I am writing you
have had breakfast and are reading ' The Sunday
Times,' which I hope to receive in about two weeks.
To-morrow^ evening on my arrival in Dublin I hope to

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 227

get a letter from you. I have just paused to calculate
when you will get your first letter from me, and find
you cannot receive your first news after my leaving New
York before next Friday, June twentieth, almost four
weeks after my departure from home. How long the
time seems ! . . . God bless you.

"Londonderry, Ireland, Jime 19th, 1879.

"Here we are in the North of Ireland, and that we
are far north you may realize when I tell you that
when I awoke this morning the sun was shining in my
room; looking at my watch I found it lacked fifteen
minutes to four. I realize it in another way, namely,
in that I am obliged to wear my overcoat continually.
I would not live in Ireland for the whole of the island!
Perhaps that is rather extravagant, but it expresses my
present feelings so far as temperature is concerned.

"We came to Dublin on Monday, and on that day
and on the following, in which we had to do the city, it
rained continually; our stay there was most unpro-
pitious. Yesterday we had good weather and a pleasant
journey north along the shores of the Irish Sea to
Dundalk, and across the country to this old city. Tell

W to read up the siege of Londonderry. It is

walled, i. e., the walls and gate- ways of the ancient city
yet remain, though the town has grown far beyond

228 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

them. It is yet a small city and could not have con-
tained more than three or four thousand at the time of
historical interest.

"We did the city last evening after dinner (an ad-
vantage of our long days) in order to go on to Port
Rush this morning to breakfast, and to have more time
to give to the Giant's Causeway. Your letter and the
enclosed introduction from Dr. Gross to Sir James
Paget was handed to me in the museum of Trinity Col-
lege, Dublin. I am much interested in all about me,
but I am also thinking of home. . . Write

three times a week if you can. ....

"Inversnaid, Jrme 22nd, 1879.
" Here in the Highlands of Scotland on the shores of
Loch Lomond with the cloud-kissed heads of Ben Ledi
and Vorlich in front of me I sit down to hold a few
moments converse with you. On the mantel are ar-
ranged as in Killarney, my family pictures; but more
than four thousand, yes, six thousand miles intervene
between us. I can hardly yet realize that I am in the
old world.

"My last was written at Londonderry on Wednes-
day morning. After a vile cup of coffee we went to
Port Rush to breakfast; and after this most refreshing
pastime, to the Giant's Causeway, some eight or nine

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 229

miles distant, passing the ruins of Dunluce Castle, but
did not venture to explore them, as the only approach
to the ruins was over a narrow wall spanning a deep
chasjn; the wind at the time blowing so fiercely it
would have been dangerous to attempt the passage.
At the Causeway we took boat to a couple of caves
worn deep in the rock by the waves of the ocean run-
ning into them for a distance of two hundred feet or
more, quite as far as any of us were disposed to pene-
trate; then to and upon the Causeway which is indeed
wonderful and interesting. Then lunch at the Cause-
way Hotel and a drive back to Port Rush, a rainy even-
ing, a fire in my room, a good night's rest, and bright
morning on Friday, and then by a pleasant rail trip to
Belfast, at which place it began again to rain.

" Belfast is large and populous but presents little
to sight-seers. By evening boat we arrived at Glas-
gow, where we stepped upon Scotch soil. Glasgow is
a very large and solid city, with much that is interest-
ing. I will not attempt an enumeration, only mention-
ing a Cathedral which boasts the finest ecclesiastical
architecture in Scotland, and the Hunterian Museum,
which being anatomical and pathological will not inter-
est you. Here we found the cleanest and most com-
fortable hotel we have yet encountered. The landlady,
who in this kingdom is ihe 'personage of such an estab-

230 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

lishment, is an American; the furniture was all of
American make, and the table service, each piece deco-
rated with the stars and stripes and the cross of St.
George, the staffs of which were crossed and tied
with ribbon. We fared well and our American hostess
was pleased to make us comfortable.

"At ^Ye last evening we took rail to Balloch at the
foot of Loch Lomond, and then steamboat to this place,
where we had tea at nine o'clock. At ten-thirty,
although the evening was both cloudy and misty, I
read the time on my watch out-of-doors; had it been
clear, I think I could have read it at eleven. The
weather is atrocious and robs us of much that is
attractive in the scenery. The tops of the mountains
are obscured by mist.

"It is Sunday, a lazy day, M and C are

indisposed to go out and K seems to be of the

same mind, leaving me to stay in or go out alone. I
cannot* bear to lose any of this scenery, but much is
lost on account of the weather. . . . To-

morrow, Loch Katrine, Ellen's Isle, the Brigg of Turk
and on to Edinburgh." . .

"Keswick, England, Jime 25th, 1879.
"Here in the lake district of England, in the vale
of Keswick, the most charmingly picturesque spot I

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 231

have yet seen, I am lodged in a fine hotel that looks
out over the village, river, and upon a semi-circular
range of hills or low mountains. On Monday by open
stage we went across to Loch Katrine, passing over the
intervening mountain range, past the shores of a lakelet
on the opposite shore of which, Helen MacGregor was
born, this being the domain of Rob Roy. At Stron-
achlacher, took a little steamer for the foot of the lake,
passing Ellen's Isle and the spot where Fitz- James first
espied her; then by stage through the Trossachs along
the shores of Lochs Achray and Vennachar, over the
Brigg of Turk to Callander; then by rail to Stirling,
where we visited that ancient castle of early Scottish
history. I cannot stop to describe the Castle, or the
extensive view from its battlements, but will bring
photographs, also a sprig of ivy which I reached out
and plucked from Queen Mary's Look-Out.

"The same evening we reached Edinburgh, which
I wish I could take more time to describe. It is one
of the most beautiful capitals of Europe; its peculiar
location on a group of hills, separated by deep ravines,
forms a landscape and background that is most pic-
turesque. Looking down from the ramparts of the
Castle or looking up from the loAver parts of the city
at its heights, it is equally impressive. Calton Hill,
occupied by the Royal Astronomical Observatory,

232 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

affords an extensive view. Descending the hill in one
direction, yon approach by walking, Holyrood Palace
the ancient abode of Scottish royalty, where Mary's
room and bed-room are shown, also the apartments and
bed of Darnley ; many interesting things are seen here.
The Castle and National Gallery also claimed our
attention yesterday. .....

"Last evening we came to Melrose; this morning
visited the Abbey where, at the end of several centu-
ries, the ruins of its elegant architecture still remain.
At Abbotsford I sat a moment in Sir Walter's chair,
in the library which looked out over a vast extent of
meadow reaching to the Tweed. From this interest-
ing spot we went to Dryburgh Abbey where the genial
poet was buried. Then by rail to this place.

"It is now eleven, I have just come in from a visit
to Sou they 's grave in a quaint old church-yard, passed
his former residence, and now after a hard day's work
I am tired but determined to write you this sketch
before sleeping. . . . We sail for home

on the sixteenth of August; you can write to me as late
as August first, but send that letter to Liverpool in
care of the purser of the 'Bothnia.'"

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 233

London, England, June 29th, 1879.

'' We arrived last night in the greatest city on the
globe, and to-day (Sunday) I have spent in trying to
get the main points in the topography of this unlimited
labyrinth. I am tired although I have not walked
much; the omnibuses run everywhere, on top of one is
the best place to see to advantage and to get acquainted
with the city. This mode of sight and conveyance is
extremely advantageous. .....

" My last was written at Keswick. One day was
spent in an excursion, the next, in a journey to Furness
Abbey, after which we came yesterday to London.
We had a special car which was shunted (that's the
word used here for switching) on to different trains as
we struck the various lines. At last, one hundred and
ninety- three miles from London, we struck the Mid-
land Road and one of the fast trains. Our first run
was seventy-four and a half miles, in one hour and
twenty-five minutes; some of the time we made a mile
in forty-five and forty-six seconds.

" Well, we have been in Great Britain twenty-five
days, and have had rain every day but two! Still we
have dodged the showers, and have had a good time.
To-morrow begins the work of doing London! and I
have learned enough to-day, to show me how imper-
fectly the task must be done in the time alloted. One

234 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

thought is ever present with me ; that is, the distance
between me and all that I hold dear.

" London, Juhj 2nd, 1879.

" Your letter of June fifteenth was received on
Monday morning. .... While I

was dressing on Tuesday morning, there was a knock
on my door and the boy handed me your letter written
on the sixteenth, after receiving my first missives from
across the water. I was delighted not only at receiving
a letter from you, but at the speedy passage made by
the mail which brought you my letters, so much in
advance of my calculations. Ten days from the time
I wrote my letter in Queenstown, you had it in your
hands !

" The letter which you wrote in reply was mailed
on the seventeenth of June and was handed into my
room in London on the morning of July first, making
fourteen days. It seems incredible that you should
have gotten my letter so soon. I wi'ote it after my
first breakfast in Ireland in order to get it in the mail
that closed at twelve o'clock. At three o'clock two of
us were on the heights of Queenstown looking at the
mail-boat that took our letters out to the steamer which
was on her way to New York. We watched the move-
ments with interest, knowing our letters were on their

MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

235

way to Chicago, calculated when you would receive
them, etc. .....

" I have now been in this great, noisy, crooked city
three days and am bewildered with the numberless
historic associations which we encounter on every hand.
Westminster Abbey where the tombs of monarchs and
nobles of olden time are shown, itself venerable with
signs of age and decay, seems to oppress and confuse
one in its intricacy, at least it did me, and I found
myself trying to take it all in, and realize the fact that
centuries rolled between then and now.

" To-day I have been to the Tower where are shown
suits of armor worn by Henry IV, the Duke of Suffolk,
and Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester. I noticed one
suit of armor said to have been presented to the wearer
by Queen Bess! at any rate there is visible on the
breast an inlaid likeness of the stately Queen, high-
necked ruff and all.

" I saw the spot where Lady Jane Grey was be-
headed, but alas! she was only one of a multitude who
suffered a like fate on the spot. Anne Boleyn's crown
rests in the case which contains those of the present
Queen and Charles II. — But enough of this; to me it
was depressing, and I fear it will be so to you.

The National Gallery disturbed me with so
much of beauty and its opposite, actual ugliness. The

236 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

trouble is, there is so mucli to see and so little time to

see it in. . . . . Dr. P wlio

lias been abroad some weeks, joined us in London, and
will go on with us to Amsterdam."

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIRST.

piOCTOE GUNN'S natural propensity to throw off
^ trouble and look at the bright side of life,
induced him often to say: "Enjoy your rose but don't
look round for the thorn," Thus he commences one of
his letters: —

" I think our roses have really as few thorns as any
one's, and I am sure that we may keep our fingers off
of them if we only try. .... At

this untimely hour, five o'clock in the morning, I am
writing to you from Amsterdam, — this genial old city
of the Dutch. Breakfast is not ordered for us until
nine o'clock, therefore I prefer wi'iting to you before
going out. When we awoke yesterday morning and
got on deck, we were in the German Ocean, the south
end of which we cross in going from Harwich to
Rotterdam.

" About nine o'clock we could make out the low
coast, which soon came more plainly into view, and
as we entered the mouth of the Maas, or as you proba-

237

238 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

bly will find it on the map, 'Meuse,' the dykes and
low-backed fields made a picture which fully realized
my idea of Holland. Along the dykes there appeared
to be a road (it was undoubtedly a road), as wagons
were occasionally passing thereon. Long rows of hand-
some trees and almost as many windmills, with their
long, ponderous wings slowly moving in obedience to
the wind, with here and there a cottage, gave pictur-
esqueness to the scene. The river was dotted with
vessels of all descriptions from the little Dutch hulk to
the fine, large, India-bound ships. Schiedam, Avhere
the famous gin is made, was soon before us, and by ten
o'clock we reached the city of Rotterdam where we dis-
embarked, lunched, wandered about, visited two picture
galleries, where we found some fine paintings, dined,
and then by cars came on to this city, arriving about
eleven o'clock.

" Our party was greatly augmented at London by
both gentlemen and ladies; the addition of the women,
I think, will add something to the trip. Before reach-
ing London we had only one ! but her husband stuck so
close to her, the rest of us had no chance io x>eep.
Four of the women are travelling alone; two of them
went over in the Gallia, and I had become slightly ac-
quainted with them. .... They are
solid in a metaphorical sense, but not in a physical one.

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 239

"Well, here I am almost at the end of my sheet,
and as I know nothing yet about this city, can say
nothing. To-morrow we shall go to Antwerp, stopping
at The Hague to see some pictures; much is proposed
that often is hardly worth seeking after.

So far we have had constantly bad weather,
the only days entirely without rain being at Killarney ;
and I begin to fear we shall have bad weather all the
way round. But we have dodged the annoying showers,
and have not suffered much discomfort. It is now half-
past eight, and the bells, a chime, are striking the
hour close by. With a few words more I must close
and get ready for breakfast. ....

Beuxelles, Belgium, July 9th, 1879.
"Yesterday evening on our arrival here, I found
your letter of June 21st; this morning, another was
brought dated two days later. ....

My last was written Sunday morning at Amsterdam.
As we had only Sunday in this quaint, interesting and
curious old city, the day was devoted to it, instead of to
church. We took a carriage and drove about visiting
several points of interest. Amsterdam has been called
the 'Yulgar Venice,' but he who calls the city vulgar,
makes a sad mistake. It has a commercial grandeur
that is wonderful ! it may not have the poetic associa-

240 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

tions of the town of the Doges and Conncil of Ten, with
its 'Bridge of Sighs;' but it has wealth, thrift, clean-
liness and beauty. The residences of the wealthy are
on well-kept streets, rich, lofty, and substantial, while
they, and the promenades, and the canals, are all so
clean, and the unique picture of the whole so charming
that, despite the cold, damp weather in which we saw
them, we were delighted. Quaint old gables, steep and
plain, with here and there one highly carved and
ornamented, with black or almost black doors opening
upon steps, with rails and trimmings polished as high
as labor could reach, characterized the dwellings, which
stood prominent along the streets. We visited the
Royal Palace, saw its paintings and statuary, three
different museums containing paintings, the Zoological
Garden, and diamond polishers who, being Jews, were
hard at work on Sunday. I saw the man diligently at
work who cut, or rather polished the Koohinoor. I
went to bed tired.

"On Monday we came to Antwerp by way of The
Hague. At Antwerp I went on board the steamer
Trenton and saw Surgeon Bloodgood, who appeared
delighted to see me. Bruxelles is beautiful — evidently

fashionable and gay. I have just learned that J. C

from Chicago is here. I have been very busy to-day,
will call upon her this evening. To-morrow we go to

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 241

the battle-field of Waterloo! there is nothing to see
but it is the thing to do, and we do it. Rain ! rain !
incessant rain ! only two days without, since we landed.

"Wiesbaden, Germany,

''Sunday, July 13th, 1879.

"I dropped W a postal from Cologne yesterday

morning just as we were starting up the Rhein. We
arrived here last evening at nine-thirty, having had, to
our surprise, a fine day ; that is, only one shower during
our dinner. I had formerly dreamed of the Ehein as
a most romantic piece of river scenery, but of later
years have so often heard it referred to as no finer than
the Highlands of the Hudson, that my expectations
were somewhat toned down. In this mood I encoun-
tered the reality. Well! the half had not been told!
To compare the two, seems absurd, — as well compare the
anatomical perfections and beauty of a leopard, with
the grace and beauty of a greyhound! The Hudson
has a few miles of grand and wild scenery. The Ehein
has nothing so wild, but it has six times as much; a
great portion of it wild, and all so highly cultivated
with the vine that when crowned with the numerous
old ruins about which cluster so much of historic
romance and mythical legend, it leaves the Hudson

242 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

far in the background. Castle and crag here and
there present bold and stern reminders of the career of
the robber feudals, with now and then a bit of sweet
and touching romance; while the Lorley or more
properly the Lurlie. calls up the familiar legend, which
has been so distorted upon the stage.

"Well, here in Wiesbaden I have just attended an
English Church, where Victoria and the Eoyal Family,
Kaiser Wilhelm and the President of the United States
were all remembered in the ritual. How odd it seems
to be here! It is raining, my window is open, and I
look out on a beautiful small city while you are one
quarter of the way round the globe to the west, and
are just sitting down to breakfast."

"Heidelberg, Germany, July 14th, 1879.
"I wrote yesterday from Wiesbaden and was dis-
appointed at the non-reception of a letter on my arrival
Saturday evening. To-day in Heidelberg, I found
your letters of June 26th and 27th with the enclosed

from T written on June 29th, giving a description

of their journey, similar to yours they wrote you from
Manitou Peak."

" Tuesday, Fifteenth. — Have just returned from the
Schloss or Castle which is Heidelberg's lion! It is the

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 243

most extensive and, on the whole, the most interesting
ruin J have yet seen. I cannot go into details, only to
say that there are garden terraces, trees, towers, gables
and a drawbridge over the moat, and that in the vast and
solitary chambers is the architecture of past ages. All
combine to make this one of the most interesting of
ruins. Among other things, it contains in a well-
preserved condition, the great tun which is said to
contain, I believe, eighteen thousand barrels; it is also
said to have been three times filled with wine. A flight
of stairs leads to a platform on its top, where can be
danced a double quadiille!

" From the Castle walls we overlook the town, and
in the distance catch a glimpse of the Rhein, into
which the Neckar below us flows. Behind rise the
heights of Kaiserstuhl, while on the opposite side of
the Neckar we behold the vine-clad sides of All Saints.
When I stood there and looked out on all this beauty,
I thought . . . well, in a word, I

wished that you were here. God grant we may some
time take this journey together! It is raining again
and I am gloomy. . . . I get comfort

in the thought that I am on the last half of the
allotted time for the journey." ....

244 memorial sketches.

" Hotel Schreiber, Eigi-Kulm, Switzerland,

''July 19th, 1879.

" Here at the top of the Rigi, five thousand nine
hundred and sixty-five feet above the level of the sea
and four thousand nine hundred feet above the level of
Lake Lucerne from which we made the ascent on the
inclined railroad, I sleep to-night, and go to Luzern

to breakfast in the morning. Dr. P is also here

and we hope to get a clear sunrise, though it is ex-
tremely doubtful.

" I last wrote you at Heidelberg, writing on Tues-
day evening my Wednesday's letter. I agreed to write
you every Sunday but have written twice weekly instead.
We stopped over in Strassburg,
for in order to hear the clock strike, we were obliged
to wait until afternoon, and lose the train that would
bring us into Schaffhausen in seasonable time. Next
day we came to Schaffhausen, stopped at a most
delightful hotel, situated directly in front of the falls of
the Eihein. On the next day, Friday, came to Luzern,
stopping at Zurich two hours, instead of all night,
thus catching up with our programme.

" To-day we have lingered in a most delightful
locality, with the Alps in front of us, and this pecul-
iarly beautiful sheet of water at our feet. Nine miles

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 245

by steamer brought us to Vitznau, and then the elevat-
ing railroad to this immensely elevated point on the
top of one of the Northern Alps. I hardly can contain
my enthusiasm, so charmingly beautiful is the picture
upon which I have been looking to-night.

"It is dark, and I write my Sunday's letter now
instead of to-morrow, in order to have it mailed from
this mountain. It is higher in the air than I have
ever been before and the grandeur and picturesqueness
of the view I only wish you could see. Monday we
take steamer to Alpnacht and then stages over the
Brunig Pass. I am some feverish to-night, possibly
from excitement. My arm was again opened during the
last week. .... I feel that my

letters are meagre affairs, but I am always hurried, my
heart is full of the scenes around me and equally full
of regret that an ocean is between us."

" Interlachen, Switzerland,
"Wednesday, July 23rd, 1879.
"My last was from Rigi-Kulm. Sunday was spent
on Lake Lucerne going to Fluellen at the head of the
lake, passing some very fine points and the Tell Platz
where, according to the legend. Tell sprang on shore
and shoved the boat out into the lake. Monday we
took boat to Alpnacht, then carriages to Brienz on the

246 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

north shore of a lake of the same name, crossing
which we stopped at Giessbach for the night. Our
carriage route was over the Brunig Pass, from which

at a post-office stop, I dropped a line to W .

" The scenery over the pass was simply sublime!
Imagine yourself creeping up and still up along the
side of the mountain, at times effecting a turn in order
to accomplish a zig-zag movement, then up and up a
mile or two of travel and you look directly down upon
the path over which you have just come, perhaps some
five hundred feet below. At last the summit of the
pass is reached, and you begin a similar descent, catch-
ing constantly magnificent views of snow-capped peaks,
warm, sequestered nooks, where the peasant was pas-
turing his herd or making hay for winter's use. Now
a mountain torrent is seen rushing down the mountain
side, leaping often hundreds of feet at a single plunge.
Thus one beautiful fall was in sight for more than an
hour; our view being altered only by the varying
altitude from which we beheld it, in our back-and-
forth, zig-zag course down the mountain. At last when
nearly down to the level of the lake, we pass beneath
the overhanging rocky side and emerge into the valley,
embark on the lake, cross, and catch sight of a fine
hotel located upon a little plateau some four hundred
feet above the surface of the lake. This we reach by

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 247

a new inclined railroad which has been in operation
only one day.

"The view from the hotel is charming, the water-
fall leaping in a series of cascades down to our very
feet from nine hundred feet above us. The window of
my room looked out upon the fall, and the roar of
the rushing water lulled me to a night's repose. Before
this at nine-thirty, came the illumination by Bengal
lights. I had heard much of this illumination, but
had failed utterly to conceive of its great beauty. It
is useless to attempt a description, but when I see you,
I hope to be able to give you an approximative idea of
this picture which I shall carry with me to my life's
end.

"To-day the rain has prevented our going to Grin-
del wald; we were obliged to postpone the trip until
to-morrow. I had gotten to the fourth page of this

letter, when P came in and proposed an extra trip

to Lauterbrunnen. The rain had somewhat abated,
and we had a lovely afternoon, seeing in addition to the
fine mountain scenery, a waterfall where a small brook
bounds over a precipice and falls sheer, nine hundred
and fifty feet, breaking into a white mist before reach-
ing the bottom. Well! I cannot write all, but must
wait to tell the rest in propria personal

248 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

"Lausanne, Switzerland, July 25th, 1879.

"On my arrival here last evening, I found your
letter of July seventh, just nineteen days old. At
Interlachen, where I wrote you last, I received two! .

"Now to take up the thread of my travels: — My
excitement and enthusiasm are awakened at every turn.
On Thursday we went to the Glacier of Grindenwald
where we entered a grotto cut for three hundred feet
into ice, clear, and blue, and old, how old I cannot tell,
but perhaps formed a century or more ago. The drive
to Grindenwald was magnificent; the walk to the gla-
cier was fatiguing, but with the use of my alpenstock
I accomplished a walk that you would wonder at as
much as I did myself." .....

"Friday it was Bern and the bears! which are a
humbug. 'Old Grizzly' in Union Park would eat
them all at one meal. The organ in the Cathedral,
however, was a wonder. I never heard an organ, nor
organ playing before! Yesterday we stopped at Frei-
burg to hear the organ there; it was grand. Had
I not heard the one at Bern the evening previous, I
should have been astonished ; but on the whole, I think
it superior, and prefer the organ at Bern.
Again I cannot enter into details, but may entertain
you with them when I see you. We arrived here to
dinner. I go to church at eleven o'clock, and this

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 249

afternoon shall wander over the town. I enclose a
printed list of our party, with a brief commentary on
each."

"Lausanne, Sunday Evening, July 27th, 1879.
"I wrote you this morning and now, alone in my
room, have been reading over your last, received here
last evening. . . . . I forgot to

mention in my letter this morning a surprise at Bern.
Coming out of the dining room, I heard my name
pronounced. Turning, a lady held out her hand to me.

It was none other than Mrs. W who said she had

seen you not long before she left. It did me good to
see a Chicago face. She left three weeks after us. I
shall finish this at Chamouny in the face of Mont Blanc.
Till then good-bye. .....

Chamonix, Wednesday, July 30th.
Monday we embarked on Lake Leman and landed
at Chillon, inspected the famous castle, saw the dun-
geon of Bonnivard and the ring to which he was
chained, and the other sights of this renowned prison!
Re-embarked for Bouveret and then by cars up a most
rugged and romantic valley to Martigny, from whence
the passes over the St. Bernard and Tete Noir start.
Spent the night here, visiting the old ruin La Batiaz

250 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

in the evening. Up next morning at half-past five,
visited a noted gorge and waterfall, back to breakfast
at eight; then by carriages over the mountains via the
Tete Noire down into the valley and village of Cha-
monix, Mont Blanc rearing his hoary head of eternal
snow grandly up before our delighted vision. The
day was simply beautiful and unusual, no cloud to mar
the uninterrupted view of the mountain.

"I have now returned from a trip to the Mer de
Glace. At nine this morning, mounted on a mule,
commenced in company with a large crowd, the ascent
of the mountain, on attaining the summit of which we
looked down upon the 'sea of ice.' Our mules were
then sent down into the valley to re-ascend on the
other side of the glacier as far as possible. Then with
shoes armed with hobnails and ourselves with alpen-
stocks, we placed ourselves in charge of guides, who
piloted us across the glacier; our course for an hour or
more taking us up a rugged path over boulders brought
down in ages past by the ice flow.

"Afterwards along a path hewn by the edge of the
mountain, the abyss on one side, the perpendicular rock
on the other, safety however being secured by an iron
rail fastened to the rock, of which we could seize hold.
In time we met our mules; then down, down, to the
valley and a two or three miles ride brought us to our

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 251

hotel at three o'clock, having made the trip in six
hours.

"Dr. Grey of Utica is here with his son; he crossed
the glacier with us; the last I saw of the genial doctor
was on looking back, — I beheld his guide grasping
him with both hands, and tugging him up the rugged
path. He has not yet arrived and it is four-fifteen.
We have another glorious day. To-morrow to Geneva,
which will be turning towards home. Home! how
blessed! .....

"Pakis, Sunday, August 3rd, 1879.

"I wrote you last from Chamouny just after my
mountain and glacier trip. Next day by a tedious and
warm diligence journey we arrived at Geneva, where
I found four welcome letters from you.

We remained only one day at Geneva, a
beautiful little city from which we have in clear
weather a fine view of Mont Blanc, more than fifty
miles away. This evening, from the lake, the mountain
glowed with a deep pink tint, just as the moon with a
like roseate hue climbed slowly from the horizon along-
side the majestic and glowing mountain. It was a
sight never to be forgotten.

" Yesterday we came by a dusty and hot rail- jour-
ney to the city brilliancies of Paris! We arrived by

252 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

moonlight and lost much of the attractiveness which the
activities of the day would have given, but we gained
all the weird effects that moonlight lent to the scene.
We know nothing yet about the city, for it is too warm
to move about much before evening. We remain here
six days; then on to London, and then home. I am
not a little excited by all I behold around me, but still
I long for home. If you were with me and I were not
obliged to hurry on so rapidly, I think I should be
content to stay indefinitely ; but as it is, I begin to tire
of the work — for it amounts to work. I was amused

by the account of your visit to E , describing

M 's misadventure. Tell M I shall never dare

to make him a present for fear some ' Mick ' will rob
him."

" Paris, Wednesday Morning, August 6ih, 1879.

" On Sunday, which was a scorcher, I wrote what I
fear you found an unsatisfactorily short letter; this
may prove no better. The fact is, with fatigue and
excitement, I can hardly attain even my usual small
degree of patience for letter writing. You know how I
dread the mechanical part of writing; if I could fcdk
letters, you would receive long ones daily.

" This morning as I lay in bed, thinking of the
actual labor of sight - seeing, I shrank from it and

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 258

thought how glad I should be to get home once more.
The simple fact is, this doing a place in a given time is
a grand humbug, unsatisfactory and fatiguing. I real-
ized this more at Versailles, where amid sights and
glories that would have required days, it had to be
compressed into a few hours. It is true I have seen,
but how little I have brought away with me is fearfully
apparent. Madame de Maintenon's residence at Tri-
anon,— Petit Trianon, where poor Marie Antoinette
danced on the threshold of a volcano, — the palace,
now filled with historical paintings illustrating the
glories of France, I have looked upon, but how I longed
for days to contemplate and admire! The paintings
surpass anything I have yet seen, excepting those in the
Louvre, and the gardens, laid out on a scale of magnifi-
cence, are something to excite wonder as well as admi-
ration. Indeed, when I look upon these surroundings,
I can appreciate how a Frenchman feels when he cries
out, 'La belle France!' It is a glorious nation, this
French people, with a past that ought to make them
rejoice in their inheritance.

"On Monday we drove about the city something in
the following order: — Place de la Concorde, Champs
Ely sees. Arc de Triomphe, etc. ; yesterday, the Bois de
Boulogne, and so on through the programme. To-day
will be the last of the prescribed drives, when we shall

254 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

have a few days to ourselves, then on to England, and
then home. . . . . I am writing

before breakfast, and as the hour is at hand, must close,
and after breakfast must begin the tread-mill of sight-
seeing! I am just beginning to see some of the disad-
vantages of these convenient tours.^^

" Grand Hotel, Brighton,
''Sunday, August 10th, 1879.

"No weary and worn mariner ever longed for port
and home more than I have since receiving your let-
ter on Wednesday last, in Paris. I had already begun
to weary of continual motion. Yesterday, although the

rest of the party except Dr. H of Boston remained

in Paris, I came on, or rather started for London, but
found I could lay over here at one of the most cele-
brated watering-places in England.

"To go back: — On Wednesday we accomplished the
last of the three day's 'excursions.' Thursday I
looked all over Paris to find a pair of spurs like
those I bought in Washington, but with no better luck
than I had in London. In the afternoon it was the
Siege of Paris and Hotel de Cluny. Paris is beauti-
ful and attractive, but I, unfortunately, am wearied of
so much hard work in sight-seeing, and am confused
by its rapidity. Paris undoubtedly is not a divine city,

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 255

but to see its wickedness one must seek it, it is not
thrust upon you. In London, on the contrary, it is
paraded, and even protected by the police.

"You see by the cut of the building on this sheet,
that it is a fine hotel, with only the street between it
and the sea. Fronting south and looking out upon the
channel, we have before us a fine extent of beach, and
this morning before breakfast I watched the bathers
in the surf. Last evening I saw the Aquarium, said
to be one of the most complete in the world. This
afternoon I go on to London, and before the week is
out I hope to embark for home. . . . My

Summer has indeed been a novel one, a strange suc-
cession of new sights and impressions."

"Grand Hotel, Brighton,

''Sunday, August 10th, 1879.
"I have just written you a letter which I have
sealed and mailed, forgetting to enclose the promised
Paris programme. I should like to accompany this
letter. I will write you again from London on Tuesday,
in order that you may have a letter a day or two in
advance of me. I shall sail from Liverpool four days
after I mail my last letter from London."

256 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

"London, August IWi, 1879.
"I wrote you yesterday from Brighton, and came
on to London this afternoon. I have written two, and
sometimes three letters a week, to make them narrators
of my movements. Writing letters under the circum-
stances, is no easy thing to accomplish. I fear this
correspondence has not been satisfactory. I know it
has been hurried. Sometimes I have arisen at unholy
hours! and sometimes I have written late at night, to
fulfill my promised quota. . . . This

morning I found foui' letters from you, mailed on the
24th, 28th, and 29th of July. I opened the last first
in order to get the latest news." ....

"London, August 12th, 1879.

" Another letter of July 30th has just been handed
to me. You have been most prompt in writing,

which I thoroughly appreciate. M said to me

this morning, ' I now feel as though I was almost home
again.' But the two weeks, at least, which must elapse
before we are at home, seem longer to me than did
the time when, at Chamonix, we first turned back on
our journey.

"Yesterday I spent at Kensington Gardens; in the
evening, at the Haymarket where Eose Eytinge, well
supported, played to a beggarly house.

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 257

This afternoon I shall go to the British Museum, Ee-
gent's Park and Zoological Gardens. On Thursday we
start for Liverpool via Stratford-on-Avon and War-
wick. On Saturday we sail ; this will be the last letter
I can get to you before sailing. I will telegraph you
from New York." .....

" S. S. Bothnia, off S. W. Coast of Ireland,

''Nine O' Clock P. M., August 17th, 1879.

" I am seated in the saloon of our unremarkable
steamer to gratify your wish to have me write a letter
to bring with me! Well, to begin. Promptly at three
o'clock P. M. yesterday, the lighter took us off to the
steamer, which required half or three-quarters of an
hour. Arriving on board, I inquired for letters, but
found none! I was more than disappointed! But in
the course of half an hour, I was greeted by the an-
nouncement that a package which the lighter brought
when she came with us, contained the much longed-for
letter from you. .....

'•At six o'clock precisely, we flung out the Stars
and Stripes and put our wheels in motion. At two
o'clock this afternoon we steamed into the Cove of
Cork, or as it is now called Queenstown, to receive the
London mail and a few additional passengers. We
were on board the same steamer, and lying in the same

258 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

place, and for the same purpose as on the seventeenth
of June when we had watched the Bothnia take to the
United States our first letters. Now from the steamer
we looked up at the eminence from which we then had
regarded her, but how different it all was! Then we
sped off our letters and had our trip before us; now,
the trip completed, we were impatient of delay, every
moment seemed an hour, and we longed to be on the
wing. I at least was anxious to annihilate space. As
on the occasion of the quick passage of our letters, I
hailed it as a favorable omen of our passage to you.

At last the mail and passengers
were all on board, then we steamed into the Channel,
and now at this hour, are well out to sea, oif the ex-
treme south-west coast of the Green Isle.

'^Sunday, August 24fh. — Just one week ago I wrote
you off the south-west coast of Ireland; now we are
eight hundred miles from New York, and shall not, at
best, be able to reach port until Wednesday noon.
Before that time, no doubt, you will be anxiously
watching for the arrival of the Bothnia. The boat is
slow, the winds constantly ahead, and some of the time
fierce ; consequently we have had a tedious as well as
a rough passage. Monday it began to be troublesome to
those who could not stand the motion. Tuesday and
AVednesday ' Joseph ' was heard from on all sides !

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 259

The tables which were crowded on Sunday, were now
sparsely enough occupied, and those of us who were
able to be on hand had plenty of room. E suc-
cumbed at once, and never appeared at table or on deck,

until yesterday (Saturday). C took his meals on

deck, and did not particularly relish them; he reap-
peared at table, however, on Friday. M , P

and I, do justice to our meals.

" Three days of fine weather have given us better
progress. I have not missed a single meal; in fact my
happiest moments (although the fare is not very good)
are at the table. The motion of the ship made my
head feel badly, but my stomach was proof against its
influence ; however, three or four days are quite enough
for me at sea. I have grown impatient over the slow
old boat, wretched weather, abominable table, and
nothing to while away the time. It has seemed that I
must drive on faster, but how impotent are such desires!
I have been almost as much demoralized as I was
during those last ill and miserable days in the army.
I will wire you as soon as I reach
New York."

On landing in New York, it was a matter of con-
gratulation to the doctor that he was not doomed to a

260 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

hotel on the European plan. When sitting down to
breakfast at the "Fifth Avenue," with a cantaloupe in
front of him, he again congratulated himself that he
could consult his menu, and give an unlimited order
without contemplating " items."

He arrived home in high spirits, had forgotten the
" slow old Bothnia," the whirl of travel, the fatigue of
sight-seeing, the surfeit of paintings, etc., and was
overflowing with recitals of his new-found. Old World,
experience, and said, " We must go over in a year or
two. I want you to hear the Bern organ ! that, alone,
is worth crossing the ocean for! "

CHAPTER TWENTY-SECOND.

T N the following Olla Podrida from numerous anec-
-*■ dotes which I have heard the doctor relate (some
at his own expense), are a few which I venture to
repeat.

He had rendered some surgical service to one of his
confreres belonging to another school. Still partly
under the influence of ether, his brother doctor said
in a confidential tone — "Gunn! you are not such a fool,
if you do wear long hair."

In regard to his hair, he often threatened to cut it
off or shave it, and it required all his wife's diplomacy
to prevent its sacrifice.

This recalls an incident of his earlier professional

days: — Dr. P. , an old resident physician of Detroit

(a retired army ofiicer), was singularly opposed to the
connection of non-residents with the University. Out-
wardly courteous, there was a latent antagonism that
led to an unwarrantable and undignified attack upon
the then only non-resident, in one of the papers, in
which this paragraph appeared: — "This erudite Pro-

261

262 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

fessorial Apollo drives a parti-colored horse Avith white
flowing mane and tail, up and down the avenue, and
curls his hair with curling tongs!" To which Doctor
Gunn replied, " 'The head and front of mine offending '
is a parti-colored horse! My venerable critic, much to
my regret, is right in regard to the diversified color of
my horse ; but for the objectionable kinks in my hair.
Nature, alone, is responsible, and I can hardly pluck it
out to mollify him."

There had been a sharp controversy between the
"Peninsular Journal" and the "Medical Independent,"
before Doctor Gunn became editor of the latter. A
complimentary contemporary noticing its editorial
changes, among other comments says: — "We thought
when seeing Professor Gunn's name upon the cover of
the 'Independent,' that resort had been made to the
ordinary custom in military practice, of turning cap-
tured gims upon the enemy from whom they were
taken, and we opened the book rather expecting some
hofne shots. But we were mistaken, and found the gun
had been christened 'Peace-Maker!' Henceforth we
opine the war is ended."

The doctor in reply says: — "Whether we shall de-
serve the honorable title of 'Peace-Maker' the future
will alone determine." In this connection Dr. Gunn in

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 263

his Salutatory, gives his opinion on the subject of con-
troversies : —

" Salutatory. — With the present number, the sub-
scriber assumes joint proprietor- and editorship of the
Medical Independent; and before retiring behind the
editorial 'we,' he wishes, even at the risk of incurring
the charge of egotism, to appear before the fraternity
and his readers, in the first person singular.

"From the sixth number, the Independent has been
involved with a contemporary, in a controversy, which
has partaken largely of a personal nature. This con-
troversy has been regretted by many, including warm
adherents of the journal and members of the profession
at large, and has frequently prompted the inquiry, so
often provoked on other occasions, 'Why icill Doctors
quarrel ? '

"The harmony of the legal profession, forensic as
it is in its practice, is cited as presenting a striking
contrast to the quarrelsome proclivities of our own.
While, from my relation to both parties, I refrain from
interference, I remark in reference to the general sub-
ject, that the answer and explanation lie patent upon
the surface of facts presented in the contrast. From
the nature of the practice, men destitute of ability and
acquirement cannot rise in the legal profession. In

264 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

whatever specialty the aspirant may engage, merit
alone will advance him. The opinions of the counselor
are to be tried by those of counsel enlisted in opposing
interests. The persuasion and logic of the advocate,
are met by their like. Legal opinions and logical de-
ductions are to be weighed in the scales of impartial
justice, and persuasive or peremptory eloquence in the
influence it exerts, registers a just estimate of its force.
Hence, in the law, men soon find their true level, and
standing competitors feel themselves peers. Mutual
respect, confidence and harmony are the natural re-
sults.

"With the medical profession it is widely different.
In practice, the acquirement and skill of competitors
are not brought in contact. Medical practice is a broad
field, in which truth and falsehood, education and
ignorance, refinement and vulgarity, dignity and buf-
foonery are often competitors for patronage, and not
infrequently the worse leading the better in the strife.
The public are not capable of judging medical doc-
trines nor medical men; hence the crudities, the
vagaries and the delusions which infest not only the
public, but at times even the profession itself. It is
not unjust to say that all these find lodgment in all
classes of society, not excluding the most cultivated and
intellectual.

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 265

"Such being the case, it is not strange that in the
ranks of legitimate medicine, where may be found men
of almost every grade of endowment and acquirement,
competitors should frequently chance to be men un-
worthy, morally or mentally, of each other. Nor are
the consequences more strange; distrust, jealousy and
contempt naturally follow, and where these qualities
prevail, bitterness soon reigns. Misunderstandings,
misinterpretations and aversion to explanations are
frequent, and thus when controversies arise, they are
apt to assume a personal and bitter character.

"In the existing state of the profession, such con-
troversies are not altogether unproductive of good.
To be deplored they certainly are, not alone from the
attitude in which the public beholds us, but also from
the fact that they cultivate a spirit, which, from the
peculiar nature of matters already explained, is but too
prone to manifest itself. Still they are not destitute of
good results. Entertaining these views, and perhaps
not deploring controversy as deeply as some of my
medical brethren, I shall, notwithstanding, strive to
avoid its tumult. I shall not be the aggressor in per-
sonalities, but will manifest, should occasion require,
even a laudable forbearance in this respect, and trust
that the hand thus fraternally extended, may meet
with a response prompted by fraternal hearts.

266 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

"Books, writings, public teachings and existing
evils are, I conceive, legitimate subjects of criticism,
and in the discharge of editorial duties, I should deem
myself highly culpable in shrinking from their full
performance. Adopting as a motto, 'Full and exact
justice to all men,' I will zealously labor in the edi-
torial field, for the true interests and progress of
medicine."

Later on, when the "Peninsular Journal" "poured
out of its editorial Pitcher" some of these aggressive
personalities, they were cleverly answered by the doctor.

A well known physician of Michigan, thoroughly
familiar with the circumstances, has furnished the fol-
lowing paragraphs with regard to the founding of the
new medical journal : —

"It is difficult if not impossible, at this distance of
time, and after the radical changes in the mode of
thought of the medical profession, to appreciate the
new era which the establishment of the ' Medical Inde-
pendent' hailed.

"A few years previously a colleague of Professor
Gunn, in the Medical Department of the University,
had pronounced an address before one of the medical
classes which demanded in no uncertain terms, advance
to a higher plane of professional thought and endeavor.

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 267

The leading dictum was: The Science of Medicine
should be looked upon and studied like all other sci-
ences, and that portion which did not stand the test
should be mercilessly discarded. The doctrines of the
address provoked much of acrid controversy and serious
comment among the medical societies.

" There was at that time living in Detroit an accom-
plished and brilliant young physician, Dr. L. G. Rob-
inson, who at first was strongly inclined to look upon
the author as almost if not altogether a professional
heretic. Swayed by this feeling he introduced to the
Detroit Medical Society a series of resolutions demand-
ing of the medical faculty of the University whether
or no they indorsed the 'paradoxes and dogmas' con-
tained in the address. Without entering into details,
it is sufficient to say, that within a brief period, Dr.
Robinson himself announced his full adhesion to the,
at that time, novel proposition that medical science is
not exempt from the crucial test of Baconian induction.
It may be noted, that a few years after, the author of
the disturbing address was elected President of the
State Medical Society of Michigan on the issues there-
in provoked.

"In full accordance with these principles, an effort
was initiated to have the Medical Department of the
University removed from Ann Arbor to Detroit so that

268

MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

students could be taught practically as well as theoret-
ically. To this result the ' Medical Independent ' lent
its support, but as yet this desirable object has not
been effected. Nevertheless the establishment of the
* Independent ' proved a most powerful factor in awak-
ening the profession of the state to a wider and
profounder comprehension of great underlying princi-
ples. It sparkled with contributions from the leading
writers, observers, and thinkers of the state. When
ultimately it was merged in the compromise journal
which succeeded it, a neutrality was secured which
placated the Ann Arbor coterie, but with a loss to the
profession of the ablest organ of its highest thoughts
and its supremest deserts "

In looking over the pages of the "Independent"
the following excerpt from Doctor Gunn's comments
on a surgical case is. taken as giving a perspicuous idea
of his general views with regard to the value of so-
called medicinal treatment, not only in external but
also in internal disease — doctrines not then generally
accepted, although now almost universally prevalent : —

" The above case affords a striking illustration of
the evil effects of ill-applied and profuse medication.
There is not, in my mind, the least doubt that recovery

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 269

would have followed entire abstinence from medicine,
and the continuation of generous diet. The free sup-
puration which followed the inflamed condition of the
wound, was exhausting in its tendency, and called for
supporting treatment ; it received the reverse ; the pros-
trating effects of the medicine favored the formation of
pus, and thus, in addition to its direct tendency, con-
tributed to exhaust the patient. It was a direct and
absolute agent for evil. There was no indication for
medicine; yet how few have the courage to say as much
to a patient!

" 'I felt some hesitancy in putting forth that book.'
The distinguished author of ' New Eemedies ' spake
thus in reference to this work. The reason assigned
for this hesitancy was, that he feared that he was en-
couraging the disposition manifested by the profession
to administer, and the people to take too much medi-
cine. There is no doubt as to the fact, there is too
much medicine swallowed. There is also no doubt
that physicians prescribe too much of the same article,
and too little of that which pertains to diet and regimen.
They rely too implicitly on the supposed curative prop-
erties of medicines.

"The reason of the disposition alluded to by Dr.
Dunglison, and which he feared he was encouraging,
lies in an altogether mistaken idea of the relation

270 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

which a medicine bears to a disease, and to the recuper-
ative process. I unhesitatingly make the assertion,
that medicine never cured disease — that there is no
direct relation between a medicine and a disease — that
there is no mysterious curative tendency in any medi-
cine. There is only one curative tendency, and that
lies in the organism — it is innate with the being — it is
a necessary part of its existence and undoubtedly is the
same force which tends to preserve it, and presides over
its unceasing changes — it is everywhere present in
organic life — it heals over an abrasion in the plant and
closes up a wound in a man — it enables the drooping
flower to revive and bloom afresh, and the crowning
work of creation to arouse and throw off a syncope.

"The means of calling this curative force into action
are manifold, but a cure is effected only through its
cigency. The most that a medicine can do is to arouse
it to action in some instances, and favor its operation
in others. There is no direct relation between an in-
flammation and the lancet, or tart, antim., or verat. vir.,
or cal. and opium; yet any of these agents may not
only be useful but absolutely indispensable, by so
affecting the system as to favor the operation of this
venerable but much ignored ' vis medicatrix ncdurce.''
We bleed for acute pleuritis, yet who will say that
there is a direct relation between the lancet and the

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 271

disease? A recovery follows, but who will say that
the loss of twenty ounces of blood cured the inflamma-
tion? It simply so impressed the system as to favor
the curative effort of nature — an effort that will often-
times be successful without aid, though at others
imperatively requiring it, and failing in its absence.

"The antagonism between quinine and an ague,
would seem to realize a direct relation between a medi-
cine and a disease — in other words, the idea of a
specific; but a strong mental emotion may accomplish
the same result. An old pioneer in this state suffered
for many successive years from an ague, which quinine
finally failed to cure. Other remedies, also, were at last
powerless, and in spite of all medication, each alternate
day brought its paroxysm of chill, fever and perspira-
tion. Pursuing his way along a woodland path one
day, his ague surprised him an hour earlier than usual.
Hurrying home as fast as his shivering, chattering
condition would permit, his progress was suddenly
interrupted by the appearance in his path of a huge
black bear. For a moment the two stood gazing at
each other, the man perfectly paralyzed with fear, after
which the bear trotted off, leaving the patient minus
the chill, with the sweating stage fully developed, with-
out the intervention of the fever. The disease was
effectually broken up, and there was no return of it for

272 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

several years. What was the relation between a close
of living black bear and the ague ? Direct ? or indi-
rect? Did it operate as a specific? or, through the
impressihilify of the system?

" Within the past few years many undoubted re-
coveries from pulmonary phthisis have resulted from
the free use of oleum jecoris aselli, with and without
brandy, and with appropriate regimen. Do such
results indicate a direct relation between the remedies
and the malady? Fat beef, butter and good ale will
succeed as often, and the explanation is to be found in
the physiology of nutrition, and the pathology of the
disease. And in this connection may be expressed the
belief, that if the various forms of cancer are ever
cured, it will be through influences brought to bear
upon the function of nutrition.

"Divest medicine of the idea of its mysterious
relation to disease, and the seductive charm which leads
to its continual administration is lost, and much less
will be exhibited. When the object is to restore sus-
pended or impaired functions, or to alter and improve
the process of nutrition, by supplying or withholding
certain elements, and so ordering the regimen as to
derive the greatest possible good from such elements,
medication will become definite, certain and moderate.

"If the object is to effect a given result by oper-

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 273

ating on the impressibility of the system, medication
will be so conducted as simply to produce a desired
effect, leaving to nature the real curative work. Too
much medicine is administered by continuing its exhi-
bition too long. It is comparatively easy to learn when
and how to commence giving medicine, but hard to
learn when to leave off — so hard indeed that some men
seem never to learn the lesson. There is no course
more injurious to the real benefit to be derived from
medicine, than the blind and unphilosophical exhibition
of remedies by the clock. Doses should be repeated,
or not, according to the effect produced, and not accord-
ing to the time which has elapsed. But I forbear, and
while I express an abiding faith in remedial measures,
confess to a growing dread of hyper-medication."

CHAPTER TWENTY-THIRD.

UNFOETUNATELY for Doctor Gunn, a book en-
titled "Gunn's Domestic Medicine" was largely
attributed to him. One day when he received one of
these "infernal letters," as he called them, asking about
his book, Dr. A who was present remarked face-
tiously, "Gunn, you ought to have a royalty on that
work! half the people who buy it think it's yours^

During a convention of the American Medical
Association in one of the southern cities, standing on
the gallery of one of the hotels, was a group of medi-
cal men. A physician standing apart with Dr. H ,

of St. Louis, pointing to the doctor, asked, "Who is
that?" "Why, it's Gunn! don't you know him? he

always wears some d odd thing on his head, but

he is a capital fellow, and I will introduce you."

Peddlers in any form were his aversion. One of
these itinerant fiends had just handed in a package,
when the vender was surprised before half way down
the walk by his package, which came whirling after
him. On the fly-leaf of one of his books is written,

274

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 275

" Bought of the Author to get quit of him." With
inward amusement, evidently at the recollection, he
said: — "To-day in my office was the smartest book-
agent I ever saw ! at least the fellow discovered how to
manage me. He knew just what to say, and how to
say it. The very last thing I wanted was his book, but
he talked and I subscribed! "

Occasionally when on horse-back, he was the sub-
ject of speculation. Eiding slowly one day in the
vicinity of three small "Emerald Islanders," the pluck-
iest accosted him: — "Say now. Mister, ain't yez a
doctor ? " Second rough Emerald with disgust : — "Can't
ye see he ain't no doctor? fellers don't look that way
when they're doctors! ^^ This equivocal compliment
was followed by the third, who, staring with wide-eyed
wonder and equally puzzled in his diagnosis, shouted

after him: — "Mister, why the h can't ye tell a

feller? " This rough incident perhaps needs extenua-
tion, but I can never forget the way the doctor told it,

and,

" I laugh that I may not weep.'"'

Doctor Gunn was exceptionally kind to children
under his surgical care. He was greatly interested in

276 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

a young patient, Winifred D , who usually came to

his office and frequently brought him flowers.

A bisque basket of lovely design, filled with the
choicest roses, was sent to him one Christmas morning.
Admiring the beautiful gift, which bore no name, he
said with feeling, " It must be from my little flower
patient.'''

A child that had been cruelly burned he worked
over for more than two years ; she was a small philoso-
pher. Though her beauty was destroyed she counted
it as nothing and was always cheerful and happy.

A thoughtful friend sent me the following article
by Dr. Rachel Hickey. In connection with the doctor,
she mentions this unrepining and unfortunate little
sufferer :

" In our profession we meet some of the best men
in the world, those who rival women in tenderness and
patience, yea, excel many of them, and yet lack no
manly trait. Such was the lamented Dr. Moses Gunn.
I came in daily contact with him when I was head
nurse at the Presbyterian Hospital for three months.

"Among our patients was a burned girl, Annie

P . This great, busy, skilled surgeon would allow

no one but himself to dress little Annie. Every after-
noon punctual to the minute, he would make his appear-

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 277

ance, sometimes in his ridiDg-suit, looking like a
prince of Arthur's Kound Table. His proud, perfectly
erect carriage, his beautiful white curls, his riding
boots and spurs were the admiration of all. Annie
looked for his coming as the event of the day. She
ran to meet him, took his hand, and they chatted
together as two children. When the material was
ready he would take her on his knee and say, ' Now,
little Annie,' in such a tender, cheerful way that it
made a lasting impression on me. Once he forgot and
spoke in her presence of some little operation he
intended making. At her cry of terror, he folded her
in his arms and comforted her as few mothers could
have done.

" He was just to women, just and nothing more. If
they did well he gave them full credit; if they were
inefficient he made no secret of the fact. It has been
the custom at Rush, our oldest and wealthiest medical
college, and the one with which his name is associated,
to have questions sent down during a lecture, to be
answered by the professor at its close. One of the slips
sent to Dr. Gunn read: — 'What do you think of women
in medicine?' The answer was something as follows:
— ' Gentlemen, a few years ago, I should not have hesi-
tated for a reply. I was spending a month or so north,
trying to get rest and change to prepare myself for the

I

278 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

winter term here, my private practice and my not easy
duties at the Comity Hospital. My feelings are not to
be described when I was informed by letter that my
assistant at the hospital for my coming service was to
be a woman. I was furious. If I could have seen the
Commissioners I would have resigned instantly. I
knew some of my cases there were to be difficult and
interesting, and I did not want their success hazarded,
by placing them in a woman's charge. But I could do
nothing at such a distance. Time cooled my wrath a
little. On my return, I decided to see that woman and
make her conscious of her inability. But, gentlemen,
I never had such an assistant before; I never have had
such an one since.' He referred to Dr. Mary E. Bates,
the first woman to serve at this hospital."

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOURTH.

PvOCTOR GUNN was the soul of piinctualifcy, you
^ could count upon him to the minute; his work
was arranged and mapped out; even when in general
practice he was seldom late to dinner. This point of
punctuality brings me to an amusing though by no
means an exceptional circumstance. We were having
a very good time at dinner when a written message was
handed to the doctor to "Come in haste." He pon-
dered it a moment, then lifted up his voice: — ^^ How in
the name of all thafs holy do people manage to get
hones in their throats at such tmseasonahle hours f
With drollery his daughter replied, "Papa, probably if
they had known you were at dinner, they would have
managed to get the bone in afterward." This ludi-
crous remark, taken together with his own, raised a peal
of laughter, amidst which with a broad smile he left
the table and responded to the call.

The doctor's orderly habits, like his punctuality,
were observed in his home. He disliked getting
accustomed to finding things in new places. In a

279

280 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

jocose, half -earnest way he would assert: — "If I could,
I would have every piece of furniture in this room
made to fit some place and have it fastened there. God
be praised that no one can turn the bed upside do^s^Ti!"
He responded with as much alacrity to the ring of a
small rising bell as if a life depended upon it. He
seldom failed to hear this summons; if he did, I in-
formed him in less than a minute, that the bell had
rung! Starting up from a sound sleep he would say
with alert, anxious avidity, and a boyish freshness
which was both amusing and attractive, ^^Why didnH
you fell me sooner f"*^

Sometimes I drove with him when he made profes-
sional visits on the borders of the city. I had learned
to be prompt; yet he would invariably say on these
occasions, "Be ready . . . don't keep

me waiting." The pleasant, cheerful way he pro-
nounced the diminutive for my name, was in itself a
sufficient incentive never to keep him waiting.

One day on the outskirts of the city he left me to
act as hitching-post — not a coveted position. I usually
required the horse, or horses to be tied, so that in case
anything should happeii, I might be at liberty to jump
out. On this particular occasion I concluded that
driving would be less monotonous, but discovered, soon

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 281

after starting, a ditch on either side of the road which
deterred me from attempting to turn round. His call
finished, he came out and discovered his horses, vehicle
and hitching-post half a mile from the spot. The only
way he could reach them was by walking over the
muddy road. After hearing my story (I wondered he
was not cross!), he said good naturedly, "I think here-
after I shall trust to an inanimate post, that will not
serve me the trick of driving half-icay to Englewood —
to find a good place to turn round.''''

Doctor Gunn's mechanical ability was exhibited
in various directions. Many of his surgical appliances
were made according to his own ideas of excellence or
convenience. Some of these instruments he originated,
and others he improved. For a number of years he
had tried in different cities, both at home and abroad,
to replace a pair of light spurs. Being unsuccessful,

he asked W , his eldest son, who inherited some

genius in the same direction, to design and carve a

model from which a pair could be cast. W made

and carved the design, but his father, wishing some
little alteration, concluded to make another model him-
self. These spurs when finished were heavily plated
with gold and when not in use were kept on the doctor's

282 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

dressing-bureau, and are now souvenirs of inestimable
value.

Desiring a model for some purpose, he called his
colored man into his office, and without further prelim-
inary said: — "Alex., I have noticed that you have a
pretty fair-shaped leg; sit down and let me take a cast
of it." The man had lived with the doctor eighteen
years, and had great confidence in him, but not entirely
comprehending, said: — "Doctor, I'm puffectly willin'
to put my leg or any thing else to your sarvice, so as
only you don't cut it off.'''' The doctor laughingly:
" No, Alex., we won't do anything so bad as that. I
should feel worse than you would to have you lose a
leg in my service."

A number of years before this another member of
his family was temporarily made a martyr to his cause.
He was on his way to Marshall to make some opera-
tion on the eye. I accompanied him to visit an old
school-friend in the interval. He was young and am-
bitious of success. When well on our journey he said:
" Let me put a little belladonna in your eye." He
had an insinuating manner which usually prevailed.
The drop, if not too much, certainly was not too little;
it produced a dazed, unmanageable vision, making
everybody in the car look queer. This I communi-
cated to the doctor with some alarm. Taking from his

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 283

vest a tiny mirror, with a glance which I did not then
fully understand, he said "Look!" adding, "It is
nothing; the peculiar sensation will soon pass away."
I looked! and was sufficiently horrified to please him,
but he never again (to my knowledge) experimented
on me.

I remember his relating with amusement an inci-
dent of his earlier practice: — A bright woman from
the country came to consult him about a minor opera-
tion and where it should be performed. His answer
was, " You had better come to the office, my time is
too valuable to go into the country for so small an
operation, unless you are regardless of expense." She
came to his office. The operation was nearly finished,
when she noticed that he was waiting. Looking up
with great apparent concern, she exclaimed, " Doctor,
what is the. matter?" "Nothing, my good woman;
don't worry, I am obliged to wait a moment." Humor-
ously, she retorted: "O! I don't mind, only it is such
a pity that a man should be kept waiting by any
woman when his time is so valuable as yours! "

I noticed in one of the doctor's journals a paragraph
wi'itten by him, thirty years ago, when tracheotomy
was considered a more doubtful and far less successful
operation than it now is. He says: — " There is perhaps
no operation which is more di-eaded than tracheotomy.

284 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

The class of patients who require it, the gravity of the
cause which demands it, together with the uncertainty
of vascular distribution, all conspire to make the opera-
tion one of the most vexatious in the whole range of
operative surgery."

He was called in consultation nearly eighteen years
ago, to perform tracheotomy on a child that was sup-
posed to be dying. The physicians informed the
parents that the success of the operation was extremely
doubtful, and that the child might die under it. The
father despairingly asked Doctor Gunn what possibility
there was of saving his little daughter. " About as
much," he replied, " as there would be of drawing the
Opera House at a lottery." It was a moment of in-
tense solicitude, but the result was quickly ascertained,
when the doctor joyfully announced " We have won the
Opera House!" This incident was told to me by rela-
tives of the family. For weeks the child was prostrated,
but recovered, and now rejoices in being a beautiful
young woman.

At one time the doctor was devoted to astronomy,
and had fitted up on his grounds an observatory with a
fine telescope. He had been up several times watching
the sidereal heavens, when just before sunrise, he
rushed in and exclaimed, excitedly, "I have seen Mer-
cury! Copernicus died without the sight!" One of his

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 285

greatest pleasures, was showing to his family and
friends the stars and planets. Some were fortunate in
beholding Saturn in the period of his glory, when the
planet " like a magnificent golden ball was engirdled
by its ring of golden light." Young people visited the
observatory, ostensibly to view the heavenly bodies, but
their speculations were speedily merged into the more
earthly interests of their own.

Sometimes on clear moonless nights, when we were
on the gallery, he would point out radiant stars that
vied with Venus in brilliancy. Each new acquaint-
ance made with these glowing worlds seemed to bring
us nearer to the vast glittering panorama which filled
our minds with wonder at the ethereal splendors and
ennobling works of God.

Most of his leisure hours were spent in reading
French or German. He spoke German well and fluent-
ly, but, taking up French later in life, he never quite
compassed its colloquial velocity. At the Grand Hotel
in Paris, giving an elaborate order in French to a
waiter who spoke fair English and to whom orders had
always been given in English, the astonished gargon
did not refrain from saying, "Monsieur le Docteur
speaks well ze French!" The doctor said to me in a
low, amused voice, " Had the fellow known how long
I planned the sentence before reeling off the words

286 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

with SO much volubility, he would have been less sur-
prised."

The doctor's fondness for roses has been mentioned;
he always brought me theirs/ and the last rose of the
season. He had an inexpensive and easily managed
green-house in Detroit perfectly adapted for raising
flowers ; while his conservatory with which he wrestled
in Chicago, was both expensive and troublesome. It
enabled him, however, to protect and preserve some fine
plants which had been transported from Detroit, among
them one that was endeared to us by former fond asso-
ciations. A beautiful rubber-tree, also, grew to an
immense size. The doctor gave much of his individual
attention to this conservatory, but it was finally aban-
doned and converted into something more generally
agreeable and available.

Every few years he made additions and alterations
in his house (an old one), which he likened to an
"absorbing sponge." It required some ingenuity to
improve the house, but he succeeded in making the
interior home-like and attractive, much more attractive
than the external appearance of the dwelling. He was
fond of watching mechanics engaged about their work
on the premises, and would contemplate the laying of a
brick wall with as much interest as he would a fresco.
Sometimes he would correct workmen when they were

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 287

going wrong (who should have known better than he) ;
a few may have been annoyed, but the majority who
understood that he watched to see their skill, and not
to criticise, were pleased.

Doctor Gunn gloried in self-respect, if I may use
the term, but he was not vain; he never made himself
unnecessarily conspicuous in public places. He face-
tiously would say: — "If you will bring your celebrities
to me, I will look at them, but don't expect me to run
after them."

A friend once said to him: — "Doctor, why is it you
so seldom visit your patients, or attend your clinics
when on horse-back?" adding — "you never look so
well as you do in a riding-suit." His answer was: —
"In the first place it is not the thing to do; in the
second, spurs are inconvenient in an operating-room."
He never went to either of these places wearing
riding-boots, unless it was to give me the use of his
other horses.

He was fond of dinners and social visiting, but
abhorred large parties, for which, he said, "He had to
dress just as he was ready for hed^ He combined
strength and tenderness, and although sometimes im-
patient, still had great forbearance. His home was the
most attractive place to him, and it was singular that
upon the festivities of Christmas Eve he entered with

288 ^ MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

more intense enjoyment than any member of liis
family. On these occasions, directly after dinner his
boyish effervescence commenced, and if we were
delayed, he would call up to us cheerily, " Come, bring
on your bears T^

His appreciation of a good story was proverbial, and
though he would laugh heartily over what was simply
broad, he had an utter contempt for any thing that was
low or degrading.

Mrs. L , a warm and intimate friend, in some

recollections of the doctor, says: —

"I remember he would express himself strongly on
some subjects ; but his honor and caution in speaking
of people was a trait I shall ever hold in the highest
esteem. His charity and gentle judgment of human
nature, and silence on many occasions when censure
seemed justifiable, proved to be more than prudence,
and must be construed into kindness and not aus-
terity.

"He upon one occasion wrote a letter introducing
to a high official, a lady of his acquaintance. She met
with a courteous reception from the gentleman, who
upon reading the letter, said: — 'O yes! I know Dr.
Gunn well ; he is a famous surgeon ; I had the honor to

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 289

shoe his horses in Detroit when we both lived there.'
Then followed an eulogy truly genuine. The hearty
enjoyment, of the doctor on hearing a recital of the
interview, was gratifying, and I may. here add, that
the generous reception of the situation by the official
was only equalled by such honest words of appreciation
and praise as would come from one whole-souled man
to another.

"Dr. Gunn was a good story-teller, and enjoyed his
own bon mots as much as did his listeners. He was
very clever in telling a story at his wife's expense
(though one could see how thoroughly she satisfied
him). On one occasion he was about repeating an in-
cident that some Chicago friends related to them on a
homeward trip together from New Orleans ; when Mrs.

G said, 'Doctor! there are two versions to that

story.' 'Yes' he replied, 'I am going to tell mine.'
And continued: —

"'Directly in front of our Chicago friends at the
other end of the sleeper, sat a man and woman who re-
garded us with interest, the woman with unflagging
zeal. At length, turning to her husband, in an audible
whisper she said, "John, do you see that old fellow with
gray hair?" "Certainly, what's the matter of him?"
"Nothing, only he has just been getting married!"
"AVhy, what makes you think so?" ^^ Think! I know

290 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

it! that's the way men always act to their second wives."
Lookiug sharply at my wife he said, "Well! I wonder
when the old fellow was about it why he didn't marry
a young ivomanT^ Our friends were on the borders of
lunacy in suppressing the fact from John, that the
"old fellow" had never but once had such an oppor-
tunity.' With a quizzical glance the narrator then
turned towards his wife and joined in the uproarious
laughter that followed.

" I remember one evening when some friends were
about leaving that an allusion was made to his wife's
size. I recall the irresistible twinkle of his eye, and a
significant way he had of rubbing the side of his nose
when about or after telling anything comical. ' Small ! '
he repeated, ' Well, she is all I can manage ; and I

sometimes feel like little Heber C when urged to

go up to a young colt! "Heber," said his brother, "why
don't you go up and pa/ the little fellow ? " " Because I
had rather not." "Why! you are'nt afraid of a liftle —
lif — of a coU like that, are you ? " " Well — yes — I'm
pretty 'fi*aid. I tell you, Charlie, the littler they are,
the kickier they be!" To this story the doctor's laugh
added keener zest, and I thought his hearers would
never get out alivey

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIFTH.

IN referring to our tour abroad — one of the pleas-
antest journeys in our lives, these recollections may
be of small import to others, but are full of interest to
me. It would be an act of supererogation to attempt
to inform any one concerning such a tour,^ yet the
differences, or more probably the similarities, in the
individual experiences of such a journey may be appre-
ciated. For this reason I have ventured to give a
brief resu7n^ of some details of the tour as penned by
the doctor to his children.

In March, 1881, two years after Doctor Gunn's first
trip to Europe, we went over in the Waesland, an old
Cunarder that had been spliced and strengthened,
making it the best of the Belgian steamers in the Red

Star Line. The doctor writes to W : "There were

but ten passengers on board, the boat most comfortable,
our state-room large, and the table excellent.

"The first Friday out, our fore-topmast, though
made of iron, was broken off by the force of the wind
and lost! .... We landed at Antwerp

291

292 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

just two weeks after leaving New York, heavy head-
winds and a rough passage having prolonged our
voyage.

"Antwerp is interesting, from the Musee Plantin
down to dogs or milk-carts, or the Flemish peasants in
gay attire who nimbly walk the streets in wooden
shoes. Everywhere in this old town are reminders of
Rubens; here are his best paintings as well as some of
his worst. We were attracted by one of his pictures
in the beautiful Church of St. Jacques, in which are
represented portraits of himself and all the members
of his own family." .....

The next five months found us traveling over a part
of the ground that had before captivated the doctor;
and in addition, through Italy and Austria. He writes :
" Over a garden of a country we reached Bruxelles,
not to see her ' Beauty and her Chivalry ' but to find
one of the most delightful cities in Europe, a small
duplicate of Paris." .....

In the pictui-esque town of Heidelberg, at the
pleasant Hotel de F Europe, we were lodged. The
doctor again enjoyed visiting the Schloss and showing
me the old magnificent ruin of fortress and palace com-
bined. I recall the picture while standing in one of
the towers that looked down on the red roofs of the
town, when he referred to Longfellow's description of

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 298

the castle, and cannot refrain from giving a few lines
from it: —

"High and hoar on the forehead of the Jettenbtihl
stands the Castle of Heidelberg. Behind it rise the
oak-crested hills of the Geisberg and the Kaiserstuhl,
and in front, from the broad terrace of masonry, you
can almost throw a stone upon the roofs of the town, so
close do they lie beneath. Above this terrace rises the
broad front of the chapel of Saint Udalrich. On the
left stands the slender octagon tower of the horologe,
and on the right a huge round tower, battered and
shattered by the mace of war, shores up with its broad
shoulders the beautiful palace and garden -terrace of
Elizabeth, wife of the Pfalzgraf Frederick.

"In the valley below flows the rushing stream of
the Neckar. Close from its margin, on the opposite
side, rises the mountain of All Saints, crowned with the
ruins of a convent, and up the valley stretches the
mountain-curtain of the Odenwald."

The doctor again writes: — "From Cologne, by
steamer, we went up the Khine; the legendary castles
and crags, the fortresses, old ruins and abbeys enhance
the glory of the Khine. . . .We stopped

294 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

over at Eemagen, a small town connected with the
wonderful legend of St. Apollinaris, where, opposite
St. Martin's (now St. Apollinaris') Church, the ship
containing his holy relics ' suddenly stood still ! ' .

We took a carriage to the celebrated spring
and saw the extensive bottling establishment that ex-
ports millions of bottles of Apollinaris water to the
United States every year." ....

The doctor was not much given to seeking after
palaces, but in this weakness he was lenient with me.
He was interested in the Eoyal Palace at Stuttgart, and
in two suburban retreats belonging to the King of
Wurtemburg. These villas were reached by a delight-
ful drive over the Eastern Hills.

In his next letter he says: — "From Pisa to Genoa,
the last half of the distance skirts the sea-coast, passing
through innumerable tunnels, ever and anon coming
out upon the loveliest sea views of the Mediterranean.
Genoa is a peculiar old city ; we drove some distance to
the Campo Santo, which must be seen to be appreciated.
The expression given to marble in the sculptured
groups here, is indeed wonderful." ....

Speaking of the Old Pinakothek, in one of his let-
ters, he says: — "There are more pictures here than we
could contemplate properly in a year. There are at
least an hundred of Rubens ! Your mother scolds about

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 295

his paintings, but I usually find her lingering in their
vicinity." . . . ...

In Munich, when going to and from the Maximili-
aneum, and when crossing and re-crossing the bridge
at the termination of the Maximilians- Strasse, the
doctor called my attention to the "Iser rolling rapid-
ly," and if I remember rightly, there was a school-boy
declamation on the spot.

He further writes from Venice: — "We left our
heaviest baggage at the Hotel Des Quatre Saisons,
until our return from Italy, which when we reached it
was anything but ' Sunny.' Our first stopping-place
was Yerona, one of the queerest of queer old towns,
with an amphitheatre as interesting as the Coliseum at
Eome.

"On our arrival in Venice it was novel to be met
at the depot and from thence conducted in a gondola
through the Grand Canal (their boulevard) to our
hotel, where for the first hour your mother never moved
from the window, but watched the graceful and dextrous
gondoliers as they shot the pointed prows of their
gondolas past each other with scarcely the width of a
knife-blade between. .....

"When we reached Milan the exposition was in full
force, to which we gave half a day. Silks and velvets
were the great novelty to us, — large, soft, yellow skeins,

296 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

from the fibre as it is unwound from cocoons to the
perfected fabric in every shade. The^ Cathedral, near
the Hotel de Ville, we often visited, and drove, as every
one does, to see Leonardo da Vinci's fresco of the
' Last Supper' on the walls of an old suppressed con-
vent, now used as cavalry barracks. The painting is
unattractive and defaced. . . . .

"Como was the end of our rail journey, then by
steamer to Menaggio over as picturesque a body of
water as there is perhaps on the globe. Here in de-
lightful rooms overlooking the lake, we saw the snow-
capped mountains opposite and at their feet counted six
different villages. When we arrived at Hotel du Pare,
which is in a suppressed monastery at Lugano, the
scene was almost as beautiful as the last."

A detour was made to Bern, where in the morning
we saw the bears which the doctor had called humbugs,
and said that Old Grizzly, the hermit of Union Park,
could take in at a mouthful. In the evening we heard
the organ. There were no strangers that day in Bern

to make up a purse for the organist; the T 's had

accompanied us from Lucerne. Mr. T and the

doctor therefore carried out the enterprise.

Who that ever entered that dim Cathedral in the
dusk of a summer night, can forget the hour? Un-
liglited — save by a solitary lamp that cast its

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 297

melancholy rays over what seemed a spirit, evoking
from the organ a low rippling murmur, weird cadences,
— that now and again resolved themselves into purest
melody — then plunging into chaos and surging along
until launched into that wonderful "Storm" electri-
fying the listener when reaching the climax of warring
elements ! Now comes a partial lull — then the distant,
reverberating thunder — the wind — and the rain-fall.

Sweet, clear, and full rises the vox humana! one un-
accustomed to this stop, almost believes it to be the
note of a real human voice, penetrating through and
above the storm! Sitting as we were, in that sombre
old Cathedral nearly alone, it was an hour for inspira-
tion; such an hour comes but once into a life-time.
Yes! It ir((s worth crossing the ocean for!

From Naples the doctor writes to C : — "We

have just received your first letter dated almost a
month ago .... It was forwarded to

us at Venice, then to Kome, and finally reached us here.
We came to Naples on the 29th ult. and shall return to
Rome to-morrow. Yesterday was fixed upon for an
ascent of Vesuvius, but a heavy rain prevented, and all
this morning the weather has been unpropitious ; con-
sequently we must leave Naples without looking into
the crater. The old drone has steamed and smoked

298 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

lazily since we came, much to my disgust, but last
evening lie deigned to light up several times and three
times shot up brilliantly, but in the course of an hour
went to sleep again. I fear I shall get no more mani-
festations from the old rascal. ....

"On Monday we went to Pompeii, which is fasci-
nating in its terrible calamity. Tuesday we took a
long drive — in a carriage large enough for the whole
family — and wished many times you were all in it.

We have not more than half
'done' the Museum, which has claimed a portion of
three days. .... From our win-

dow we overlook the bay — distant Capri — a portion of
the city, and up at his moody Volcanic Majesty. It is
a grand and charming outlook.

"A strange city is Naples, where elegance and
squalor not only jostle one another but are completely
interwoven on all sides. The squalid indulge in
oranges and filth at the same time ; beggars pester you
at every turn and parade their misfortunes with a
tender commiseration, while another class of pests seek
to render you some unrequired and undesired assist-
ance, and then claim a recompense

But enough of this. I will finish this letter at Rome."

" I will not attempt even
an epitome of what we have done and seen in Rome,

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 299

the vast center of magnificent ruins, antiquities and
art. .... Yesterday we dined with
Randolph Rogers and his family. ....
At his studio saw his wonderfully beautiful Lost Pleiad,
and Nydia with which you are familiar. Either of
these sculptures will immortalize his name."

Later, to W :— . . . . "We

were joined by the T s in Rome and went together

by carriage over the unrivalled St. Gotthard. It was a
three days' journey; the second day we arrived at the
' Bellevue,' a large, clean hotel just outside the village
of Andermatt, more comfortable than any we have yet
encountered on the Continent." ....

The doctor was anxious to reach the Rhone Glacier
but no diligence had yet been over the Furca pass.
He was informed that by driving within five miles of
the glacier the remaining distance could be walked!
The next morning we were provided with guide, wine,
lunch, etc., and with our three faithful horses started
up the mountain. Reaching the summit we found a
small station beyond which we could not drive. Here
we halted, and consulted as to who would go on. I
was not ambitious to walk ten miles (the distance there

and back) over patches of snow, but Mrs. T said

" I am going " and pluckily followed her husband.

300 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

There was not a soul at the station; it was closed,
but the driver had brought a key that opened a shelter
for himself and horses. I sat in the carriage. In
front from a deep gorge, towered peaks of Alps ; above,
below, everywhere were Alps! The stillness and
solemnity was appalling! the spot was completely shut
in save a path along the mountain where, hours after,
I intently watched the coming of those who had gone
that way. Waiting five or six hours alone, every con-
ceivable catastrophe had gone through my mind that
might happen to them or to me.

For two hours I had scanned the path; the driver
had also been looking. His eye accustomed to moun-
tain sights and distances discovered a speck; at first it
appeared stationary ; then it seemed to move, gradually
it advanced and soon assumed the shape and propor-
tions of a man. The men were all tall! I wondered
which one it could be of the three. When the driver
finally called out — "It is the Herr Doctor! I know
him,'''' — I think words never sounded sweeter, than this
man's " Herr Doctor ^

Leaving the others to follow more at their leisure
the doctor had hurried on. At the Glacier they found
a man and a boy, who had seen no one but each other
for six months! They were in charge of a hotel but
had little in the way of a substantial repast to offer the

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 301

pedestrians. When the others arrived, the lunch
(nearly all of which remained) was speedily dispatched
and in half an hour we were on our way down the
mountain at such a pace that if an accident should
happen an escape would be miraculous. We drove
furiously through Andermatt just as the lights began
to glimmer in the cottages. We were back, — and the
doctor had seen the Rhone Glacier!

He writes from the Hotel de France, Vienna: — "We
arrived in Vienna by way of the Danube, which is
more tortuous and more turbulent than the Rhine —
equally beautiful with the Austrian Alps in the dis-
tance and the castles, chateaux arid convents on its
banks overlooking its blue waters. We find the
Austrian Capital interesting, particularly the rooms in
the old Hofburg once occupied by Maria Theresa, and
furnished as she left them. The crown jewels are
beautiful, and numerous, and interesting in their asso-
ciation and traditions. There is a glamour thrown
round them, that is enhanced probably by the romances

of that Imperial House. . . . Dr. H- 's

letter to his relatives, living at Heitzing, one of the
suburbs, near the Imperial Chateau of Schonbrunn, has
given us an opportunity of meeting an attractive family.
One of the daughters (a young girl of engaging man-

302 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

ners and personal beauty) accompanied us yesterday
through the imperial gardens of Schonbrunn.

We have twice dined with Dr. W , a young

physician of Chicago, who is here for an unlimited
time. The second dinner was served in approved style
in a handsome room that commanded a view of the
Schotten-Ring, a pleasant point in the King-Strasse.

"To-day we were interested in the Fete Dieu! The
retinue in the procession immediately about the emperor
was composed of magnificent horses mounted by fine
specimens of men, both men and horses richly capari-
soned. .....

"At the Rigi we were snowbound and left with dis-
appointment at getting no view. ....
Dresden we reached by the Elbe. . . . We
accomplished a long drive in and about Prague, which
we found ancient and strange."

" We have been three days in Berlin. Our room at
the Kaiserhof is large, with a balcony, where we sit
and look out on the Zietenplatz. . . . To-day
we have been to Potsdam, visited the Old Eoyal Palace
so identified with the immortal Frederick. While at
Sans Souci we were allowed to wander about what was
once his beloved and charming retreat in unmolested
pleasure. We shall go again in a day or two." .

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIXTH.

«

T^UEING our stay in Berlin, the Minister of the
^ United States, Andrew D. White, one of the most
accomplished and charming of men, invited Doctor
Gunn to be present at a "gentlemen's dinner party"
given for the Rector and Professors of the University,
some Foreign Ministers, and others interested in educa-
tional matters. The dinner was presided over by Mrs.
White, with the ease and grace for which she was pro-
verbial, and was further made attractive by the conver-
sation and humor of a number of the following schol-
arly and distinguished men: —

Dr. Hoffman, Professor of Chemistry, Rector of the
University; Professor Mommsen, Roman Historian;
Professor Peters, Zoplogist and Director of the Natu-
ral History Muse am; Professor Wickelhaus, Physics;
Assistant Professor Hewitt, Cornell University; Pro-
fessor Zupitza, English and Anglo-Saxon Literature;
Professor Weber, Sanscrit ; Professor Helmholtz, Phys-
ics; Baron Yon der Heydt; Von Schlozer, German

303

304 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

Minister at Washington; Curtins, Professor of Greek;
Scherer, Professor of German Literature ; Mr. Coleman,
Secretary of Legation; Mr. Frederick D. White; Mr.
Heuner, Private Secretary to the American Minister;
M. Rangabe, Greek Minister, formerly Minister at
Washington; Professor Wattenbach, History; Pro-
fessor Geiger, Modern History ; Dr. Nachtigall, African
Traveller.

Writing to C from Paris, the doctor says: —

"For reasons that have never been discovered, some
friends, who had been there, advised our going to the
Hotel Dominici! We arrived in the evening, went
there and remained one night; the next morning (Sun-
day), came here to 'The Grand.' From our rooms we
look directly across on the New Opera House, which
has become very familiar. It has many faults; though
magnificent in some respects, it is in others, disappoint-
ing. . . . We have been to Versailles
and the Trianons ; shall go again on Thursday.

"Your mother has just informed me that a struggle
is going on in her mind between the importance of
"Historical Associations" and ivearing ajjparel! She
is sure the "associations" will ultimately get the better
of the clothes r . . . .

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 305

Later he writes to W : — "According to my

programme, this was to be the last day in Paris; or
rather this was the day to journey from here to
London. But we shall now remain until the fifteenth,
in order to be present at the National fete which
celebrates the republic — the Fourth of July of the
French republicans. It occurs on the fourteenth, and
for the last week Paris has been getting ready for
the event. It is to be a grand show, but I suppose
like all other similar fetes, there will be no opportunity
of seeing anything because of the multitude of people.

"The time for our sailing is drawing near — only
about five weeks now. We must begin to calculate
about letters. ... I want to get out

of Paris, for your mother, like all women, has gone
mad over the shops and wants me to buy and bring
home the city!" .....

The doctor writing from London to W and

M says: — " It falls to me this time to write you

the weekly letter. Our Congress is now nearly over,
Tuesday next being the closing day. We have had a
very successful meeting and have been hospitably re-
ceived and entertained. .... About
three thousand doctors and surgeons congregated here
from all parts of Europe and America. London re-

306 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

ceived us with open arms. Receptions and excursions
have been of daily occurrence."

" Jw/i/ 17ih. — It is a quarter to ten in the evening;
with you it is about four o'clock in the afternoon.

Well, we are now in the largest city on
the globe! and I assure you it is in every way a grand
old city. Paris is bright, beautiful and gay — London
is dingy, solid and reliable. In the way of beauty too,
London need not be afraid of her brighter neighbor.

"The Parliament Houses, St. Paul's and old West-
minster Abbey are not excelled in Paris, while Hyde
Park and Kensington Gardens in some respects are
really finer than the Bois de Boulogne. But the two
cities cannot be compared, so different are they. I like
London, its vastness has a charm for me that I cannot
describe but constantly feel. .....

"On the whole, we have had a very good time in
this great city, but I shall be glad to get back to that
model of modesty- Chicago!

"It is my intention to remain here until the tenth
of August, in the meantime making a little trip to
Warwick and Stratford-on-Avon. Then go to Edin-
burgh and take a short tour in Scotland, after which
we shall reach Liverpool in time to sail on the eigh-
teenth. ..... I hope we shall

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 307

soon all be together in the old snuggery on Calumet
avenue. .....

"It is delightful to travel, but when one leaves a
part of his family behind, the pleasantest part is, after
all, the getting home again. I shall be glad to come
to anchor on my own ground by the first of September,
hopefully sooner. Don't expect anybody but your
mother and me — for I could never manage a dog! "

We had been some time in London, which seemed
to have neither beginning nor end, when the Interna-
tional Medical Congress assembled. The transactions
that came to my knowledge were conversaziones at
South Kensington Museum, Guildhall, and some gar-
den parties. Sir James Paget gave breakfasts every
day during the sessions to which he invited many of
the foreign members. Doctor Gunn had the pleasure
one morning of sitting at the right or left of Lady
Paget, enjoying her conversation and a superior cup of
mocha at her hands.

The Baroness Burdett-Coutts was "At Home" to
the Congress; — A "Garden Party" at Holly Lodge,
West Hill, Highgate. For this occasion the doctor
engaged what in the rather inelegant parlance of
to-day would be termed a very "swell" turnout! Un-
fortunately we hardly saw — and certainly did not enjoy

308 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

the extent of our magnificence, for just before starting
the rain poured down in torrents and all our attention
was given to getting ourselves in and out of the
brougham at both ends of the journey. In this deluge
we drove four miles to Holly Lodge! On arriving,
one or more functionaries, in liveries of blue velvet and
gold, met and conducted us through an arbor of vines
outside for a moment under umbrellas, up steps leading
to a veranda, and from thence to rooms where the
"garden party" had assembled.

We were announced and received gracefully by the
amiable baroness and her handsome young husband.
The rooms were filled, but not crowded, excepting one,
where a sea of heads was visible, whose mouths were
giving their undivided attention to choice game. Veuve
Cliquot and Johannisberger.

The lodge and its appointments were perfect. After
a time we stationed ourselves at one of the windows,
and through the mist and rain discerned rather imper-
fectly the magnificent extent of lawn and fine old trees,
and speculated upon the beauty of Holly Lodge on a

clear day. We were shortly joined by Dr. M and

his daughter; after condoling with each other on the
unpropitious state of the weather, we proceeded to the
now partly deserted dining-room and found seats where
our predecessors had stood, and soon, like them, were

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 309

giving our "undivided attention" io paU de foie gras,

and other delicacies !

We preserved a vivid remembrance of that rain,
the garden party — the Baroness Burdett-Coutts — and
her handsome "Young Husband!"

CHAPTER TWEN^TY-SEYENTH.

TTfE almost flew on one of the fast trains from dingy
' ' London to beautiful Edinburgh. Thirty years
before, the doctor had ordered from Edinburgh a hand-
some Highland dress. He now Jioped to get a piece
of the Gunn plaid, but was obliged to have it ordered
from a manufacturer and sent over.

The motion of the Britannic was so apparent with-
out a sea, that we longed for the Waesland many times
before reaching New York. The custom of making
more elaborate preparations for the last dinner of the
voyage obtained as usual. We were a few hundred
miles out of New York, the passengers in a happy
frame of mind, the tables set, and the dinner in pro-
gress, when suddenly we struck a ground- swell, or it
struck us, when with a crash, the glass and china were
precipitated to the cabin floor! The after-effects of a
storm at St. Thomas (wherever that may be) had
reached us. The tables were re-set, this time with
racks; the rolling of the steamer was now stupendous!

310

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 311

and all were becoming anxious to get wedged into their
chairs for greater security. The wonder was, how we
got through that dinner! but in spite of the colossal
rocking it was the merriest meal we had on board.

In the morning the ocean was apparently smooth,
but the deceptive undulating waves told a different
story, and if possible, the motion was worse than the
night before. Gradually we got out of the swell,
reached Sandy Hook after lunch, got aground in the
lower bay, and reached New York late in the afternoon.

The first of September saw the doctor again ready
for work; he always said he expected to die in the har-
ness. He was extremely fond of travel and deplored
the necessity that kept him so constantly employed.
Later he was anxious to view the midnight sun and
anticipated this pleasure in 1888, but ihai journey
was denied him.

I had just finished this sketch when a little diary
the doctor had kept of this tour was discovered by

M and put into my hand. How strange that I

had never seen it and that it had been overlooked so
long! I chanced to open at an entry made in London
on Tuesday, July 26th, 1881. The mingling sensations
produced upon reading this memorandum I cannot well

312 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

describe. The doctor had never seemed averse to ac-
companying me on any of the many shopping expedi-
tions in the different cities, beginning as far back as
Brussels. Looking through the leaves I was surprised
to see how much time he had devoted to me in shop-
jnngf According to his amusing minutes the random
statement that "Historical Associations" would ever
get the supremacy over ^^Clothes,^^ was undoubtedly
one of my delusions. We had been in Paris only five
days (corresponding to his diary), before the shopping
mania began.

^^ Tuesday, July 5ih. — Napoleon's Tomb in the
morning — Siege of shopping in the afternoon !

" Wednesday, July 6th. — Shopped with my wife in
the morning — Lost umbrella in the afternoon.

" Thursday, 7th. — No shopping — Grand day —
Second visit to Versailles and Trianons — Seeing fount-
ains play.

' ' Friday, 8th. — Morning — Louvre ; Afternoon —
Bois de Boulogne and Jardin d' Acclimatation.

'^Saturday, 9th. — Hotel de Cluny — Shopped at
Grands Magazins du Louvre — lunched at Palais Koyal.

^^ Sunday, 10th. — A day of rest — from Shopping!

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 313

American Church in the morning; Boulevards —
Bastille and Notre Dame in the afternoon.

" Tuesday, 12th. — SJiopped! with Mrs. G .

Went to Opera in the evening.

" Wednesday, 13th. — Hot! but not too hot to Shop!!

^'Thursday, 14th. — Last day in Paris — hot! but
Shopped!! — Dined with Dr. K . Went to Hippo-
drome."

From his memoranda after arriving in London
there were several days of interrupted sight- seeing.
Then appears the following: —

'' Tuesday, July 19th. — ■ Shopped! — Tower —
Shopped!!

" Wednesday, 20th. — Shopped!!! — Horrors!!

" Thursday, 21st. — Westminster Abbey — St. Bar-
tholomew's; Registered as member of Medical Congress
—Then Shopped!!

'^Friday, 22nd. — Parliament Houses — Eoyal Aqua-
rium, Westminster. — Shopped on the way home !

^^ Saturday, 23rd. — Zoological Gardens — had some
trouble in getting Mrs. G away from Jumbo !

''Monday, 25th.— Shopped!— T\iq Mall— St. James
Park — and Piccadilly — Dore Gallery — Alhambra in
the evening.

314 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

" Tuesday, 26th. — Shopped!! to get diamonds reset
and cards engraved; Horrors!! — I could fit out an ex-
pedition to the Antipodes with less fuss than my dear
wife uses in getting a card engraved."

I never realized how uncongenial this all must have
been to him. Sometimes I had gone alone, but gen-
erally he had accompanied me, never saying he would
prefer something else and never making me uncomfort-
able. The only means I had ever had of knowing what
a bore my shopping had been to him, was this humor-
ous escape-valve in his little diary.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHTH.

r\OCTOE GUNN had the liveliest interest in^his clin-
^-^ ics but always came home from them tired. When
he had no very ill patient, nor important nor dangerous
operation in view, he was cheerful and ready to extract
enjoyment from his surroundings. Unpleasant subjects
of any nature he banished as quickly as possible from
his mind, never allowing these vexations, nor profes-
sional annoyances to be shared by those about him.

There were necessarily many occasions when he
was preoccupied, then, if interrogated, he would say,
"Wait a little; don't talk to me just now, I am
thinking."

I remember so well one evening his troubled look;
he paced the floor, and then exclaimed, "What are a
lawyer's anxieties to ours? They fight for money, for
honor or for dishonor, as the case may be, and some
one wins! We fight disease, but no one wins when
the battle is against the decrees of the Almighty."

I remember his remarking in a social way to a phy-
sician, "I never can, though I often wish I could, divest

315

316 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

myself of anxiety and responsibility in dangerous, or
more especially in troublesome cases; they keep me in
a painful state of concern." The other replied — "You
should not let them, I never do." After we left, the

doctor said, "Yes, X looks young, he is without a

wrinkle; no doubt trouble of that kind makes as little
impression upon him as water would on a duck's back!"

It would be inexpedient, nor could I speak of Doctor
Gunn in a professional way, except in quotations from
others. Some one writing of him said: — "He was 'a
giant ' in the profession, known far and wide,

celebrated as much for his clean and honor-
able conduct toward those in his profession as for the
rapidity with which he diagnosed all cases brought
before him. His profound, rapid judgment was con-
sidered something wonderful ; all who knew him remem-
ber him first for that."

A colleague says of him: — "By looking at a patient
he could almost instantly advise the best course to be
taken in the treatment. He was the best man to con-
sult with I ever met. When I was in doubt which one
of several plans was preferable, I would ask Dr. Gunn
what he thought of it, and quick as a flash he would

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 317

almost invariably answer. I cannot account for a man's
intellect being so clear and quick in its perceptions.
But perhaps that for which he will be longest remem-
bered locally, was his high regard for the profession,
and for each member's duty to the other. He was
never known to give an adverse criticism on any physi-
cian, to the patient. If he had anything to say he said
it afterwards to the man himself."

"Dr. Gunn's practice of nothing but surgery for
twenty years in Chicago, made him a- recognized
authority. The graduates of Kush Medical College
can testify to his superiority as an instructor. His de-
light was to have a class crowd round the table and
hang over his shoulders when he was at work

His discourse was as full of jokes as it was
of information; he always had some incident to relate,
whereby a knotty Latin term or a particular point could

be made to hang in a student's mind

His profoundest thoughts were entwined with some-
thing original and entertaining as naturally as was
the mingling of gray in his beard. The stories he em-
ployed to illustrate and assist in his demonstrations,
will be quoted by the instructors at the college for
years to come." .....

318 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

Dk. J. B. Herrick, who was graduated in 1887,
gives his impressions of Doctor Gunn from a student's
standpoint : —

"A few words concerning Professor Gunn as he ap-
peared to the students of Rush Medical College, may
not be amiss. We all thought him a noble specimen
of physical manhood. His tall, erect, well-rounded
and well-knit frame, his white curling locks, his keen,
blue eye — all made him a conspicuous figure. And
when added to this, we noted his firm, quick step, his
energy in action showing the Highland blood that
coursed through his veins, his scrupulous nicety in ap-
pearance and dress, even to the minutest details, we
could readily understand why he was the prominent
personage, whether in the drawing-room, in the arena
at his clinic, or in the sick-room ; and why it was that
he was looked upon as the master — as the one who
commanded, by all with whom he was associated.

"Many of us, at first, misjudged the man and the
surgeon as we saw him at his Tuesday and Saturday
clinics. We sometimes thought him harsh and over-
bearing, but we gradually learned that he was born to
have authority, and that underneath the apparently
arbitrary word or action was a warm and honest heart.
He had no nonsense in himself, he did not like it in

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 319

others ; and his words of reproof, like his scalpel, often
caused pain by the wound so freely made ; but they
were sure to do good and in many cases to work a cure.

"Yiewing him as a surgeon, we could not compre-
hend the certainty of his rapid diagnosis and his equally
certain and rapid operation. At times we accused him
of carelessness in the one case, and 'cutting and slash-
ing' in the other. But our censure soon changed to
wonder and admiration. His keen, disciplined eye de-
tected at a glance the irregularity, change of contour,
loss of function in the part — things which we could but
faintly perceive after careful study. And we saw that
where other surgeons toiled with laborsome and pains-
taking carefulness, feeling every step of their way,
he, trusting to his very accurate knowledge of anatomy
and wide experience, worked with a boldness and rapid-
ity that were marvelous.

"He always took the 'short cut' in his surgical
operations, for with him it was the safest. We have
seen him make the complete operation for hare-lip in
five minutes. The manner in which he extirpated ton-
sils, cut for stone, opened abscesses, etc., was a never-
failing source of enjoyment to his student audience.
Before one fairly realized that he was ready to begin,
he seemed to be through; and yet he was not tempted
to undertake an operation which would, perhaps, bring

320 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

renown for its brilliancy, while it could not benefit the
patient. Often as we saw the large tumor enter the
clinic, our younger pulses beat a little more rapidly and
the blood tingled in our veins with expectancy. But
we were frequently disappointed in our hopes of seeing
a brilliant operation, for he was always honest with his
patients, and never held out to them false hopes for
the sake of temporary applause.

"Much more might be said of him did space permit.
He was a clear, enthusiastic, and practical lecturer; he
had always on hand a fund of humor and good-fellow-
ship; he was kind and indulgent in speaking of the
mistakes of other physicians. The students always
liked him for his promptness and punctuality. At the
exact minute for clinic or lecture, he entered the arena.
Many a time have I seen him stand with watch in hand,
impatiently waiting for the moment to come when he
could enter the amphitheatre and be at work. ' I would
make a poor loaiter,^ he once remarked.

" We scarcely recognized his greatness when he was
among us. Yet now that he is gone, the loss we have
sustained comes to us with its painful reality, and we
realize as we never did before, that our friend and
teacher was a prince among surgeons, — in very truth a
great and noble man."

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 321

Professor Norman Bridge writes: — "My first
knowledge of Doctor Gunn was in 1866-67 when
I attended his last course of lectures at Ann Arbor.
Probably his impression upon me was similar to that
of every other young man who has entered his class as
a pupil. He seemed the embodiment of the brilliant
surgeon; his presence, his way of lecturing, his
methods of reasoning on any subject under consider-
ation, but especially his promptness, and accuracy of
diagnosis, his rapid and strikingly effective way of
operating, all tended to impress one with his mastery.

"Before and since, I have seen other surgeons
surprised, baffled, and foiled at some step of an opera-
tion, but I never saw anything in him approaching
such a condition but once, and this was due to the
breaking of an instrument. This was at Ann Arbor;
when operating at one of his clinics, for stone in the
bladder, his sound broke square off leaving part of the
instrument in the bladder. An assistant was holding
the sound when the accident occurred, and excitedly
whispered something to Doctor Gunn, when the latter
took hold of the instrument, to assure himself of the
state of things, promptly withdrew the part he held,
threw it upon the floor vigorously, and withdrew into
the ante-room for another sound with which he fin-
ished the operation. It never seemed possible for

322 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

him to make an error in diagnosis, or a mistake in an
operation.

"After coming to Chicago and especially after know-
ing him thoroughly in Eush College, the same effect of
his personality was often noticed upon students and
younger members of the profession. He was person-
ally admired by a large number of young men; many
of them, there can be no doubt, emulated his prompt
and effective professional ways, to their great benefit as
surgeons.

"Every young man of ambition is some time or other
struck by the ways and character of some man whom
he comes to admire, either instantly or gradually. That
man becomes his ideal or model for emulation, and he
can no more avoid in some way and to some degree
imitating that model as it appears to him, than he can
help thinking; and this influence not infrequently
gives a bent and direction to his own growth and char-
acter, that ends only with his death. So every man of
power, and peculiar worth who comes in contact with
the thoughtful part of the rising generation, is, in his
ways of thinking, and doing, and feeling, in this man-
ner, continually transmitted to others, as a stream that
only ends with his life, often not till long after his
death.

"Doctor Gunn was marked in such influence; the

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 323

quality that he transmitted was undeniably most whole-
some and most valuable. But notwithstanding that
most young men with whom he came in contact ad-
mired him greatly, there were others who stood some-
what in awe of his stateliness of bearing, which had
perhaps a suggestion of austerity that tended to keep
them from familiarity. And if not his bearing, his
prompt, sharp way of dealing with mistakes and short-
comings of students who failed to do the best they
could, engendered in this class something like fear.

"He was so prompt and positive about things, and
often so radical that he was frequently not credited
with the warmth of personal nature he actually pos-
sessed. He held positive views about most subjects
that had engaged his thoughts, and was not accustomed
to shade the expression of them to suit or comfort any
one; as a result, his words often struck hard and were
always remembered, sometimes with feelings not alto-
gether comfortable, but generally with admiration for
the direct way they were spoken.

"In the work of medical teaching and in the work of
a medical college. Doctor Gunn was, as in his private
affairs, singularly honest and upright. He had positive
ideas of what should be taught, and how a college
should be conducted, and his conceptions Avere of a high
order. It made no difference, that the measure he

324 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

advanced would injure the financial prospects of the
college, and probably therewith, his own; if the object
was demanded by the final best interests of the public
and the profession, as he understood them, he was in
favor of, and gave it his constant and consistent
support.

"He hated imposture, and was always irritated when
he thought the college might, by any act or event, be
placed in the position of appearing to pretend to do
something it did not do. He would never take advan-
tage of a technicality in any business, professional or
secular; a moral obligation was always superior to a
written one, because he seemed to feel that it was more
likely to be neglected and its violation was more
despicable, from the ease with which it could be
accomplished.

" His habit of punctuality was carried to the ut-
most. I never knew a man who had this trait of
character in so high a degree ; he would not be a minute
late at any personal appointment; especially was he
prompt at his public professional engagements. Not
only was he at the college in time for his lecture, but
he, unlike any other medical teacher I have ever known,
was usually standing just outside the lecture-room
door, waiting for the stroke of the bell that announced
him, when immediately, he was at his post to begin his

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 325

lecture. He was quite as prompt in closing his lecture
at the expiration of his hour. I have seen him, more
than once, stop speaking in the middle of a word, and
many times in the middle of sentence, when the gong
proclaimed that his time was out. No brother teacher
ever had occasion to accuse him of robbing the man
who followed him on the programme, of any lecture
time.

"In his professional life he illustrated a quality, the
great worth of which is emphasized by its occasional
absence on the part of surgeons and doctors — I mean
the quality of seriousness. The business of surgery
was with him always a grave one; it never descended
to triviality. In his surgical operations there was
always the air of sober business ; there was no random
talk or joking on the part of the surgeon and his assist-
ants— a thing unfortunately too prevalent in this day
of deliberate surgery and great freedom in the use of
anaesthetics. As a result his operations were not only
perfect in their accomplishment, but completed in the
shortest possible time consistent with thoroughness, to
the great comfort and safety of his patient.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ISril^TH.

PEOFESSOK ETHEKIDGE, whose visits to my
-*- husband I so well remember, when the echo of
their voices and sometimes their cheerful laughter would
reach me, says: —

"During the many years that I have been Secretary
of Eush Medical College, I have now and then re-
ceived letters that came under no written or known
rules of management. My own judgment I so far
doubted that I would visit Doctor Gunn, to ask how to
reply to ' such communications. The one thing I was
infinitely impressed with, was his quick, and always
extremely judicious reply. Sometimes I doubted his
judgment in these answers, but my return letters con-
tained the replies he suggested, and ultimately I found
that he was right.

" In matters of college policy he was decided and
conservative. The more important the matter, the
quieter he would remain in a faculty meeting while it
was under consideration; but when he spoke, he was
careful, deliberate, and forceful, always impressing me

326

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 327

with his graceful thought, great wisdom, and strong
convictions.

"If I ever wanted any new thing adopted in college
matters, I felt morally sure of success if I could con-
vince him of its wisdom, and secure his cooperation.
Whenever he seconded an enterprise, or a new idea, it
at once received an indorsement and impetus that
ensured its success. On the contrary, if I encountered
his decided opposition, I was generally willing to carry
the new idea out and bury it. His voice was always in
favor of the best and highest ideas in matters of medi-
cal education. He favored any scheme that would give
to medical students greater facilities for acquiring
technical knowledge.

"A great impression was made on my mind by a
remark he made to the graduating class of 1869. You
know he was so often epigrammatic in what he said.
One day a student sent down a written question to him :
' What is a doctor's best road to success ?' He at once
replied with great earnestness and solemnity : — ' Young
man, your best road to success is to deserve io siicceedP
The quietude that could be felt which followed this
wise utterance, indicated that fhat class of students felt
the truth contained in those words.

"With him to make up his mind was to act. He,
often in doubt as to others' intentions, was a long time

328 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

in concluding, but when lie did conclude, it decided liis
line of action. On the contrary, when his mind was
quickly convinced of hostility, he was so prompt to act
that he often made matters brief.

"It was seldom that any one caught a glimpse of
his inmost heart. One day he uttered a remark show-
ing his great love for boys. He always loved boys and
was full of kindly charity for their thousand-and-one
foibles and foolishnesses. He seemed to have an
abiding faith in the outcome of a well-brought-up boy
who might, at the time, be going very badly. As he
and I were driving along one day, we saw a policeman
leading along under arrest a boy of perhaps sixteen
years of age. He threw up his head and in an unutter-
ably sad tone remarked: 'Such a sight makes me heart-
sick.' Those few words revealed a soft spot in his
great heart, unknown to the majority of men."

Professor Paekes refers in a few words to Doctor
Gunn's philosophy of manipulation in the reduction of
hip and shoulder dislocations: — "The profession at
large have always been very greatly interested in the
treatment of dislocations of the larger joints. Profes-
sor Gunn worked out with careful minuteness and to a
successful termination the physical obstacles preventing
easy return of joint-surfaces after their displacement.

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 329

and the best procedures of manipulation to be adopted
in securing the reduction.

"He spent many years in the careful dissection and
preparation of joints, illustrating many varieties of
dislocations, and absolutely demonstrating the hind-
rances presented to easy reduction and the best means
of overcoming them. His extensive and abundant
experience also furnished him with manifold instances
of proving on the living body the truths elicited from
his researches and demonstrations. Especially is this
true with reference to dislocations of the hip- joint.
He has proven beyond a doubt that he was the fir si, or
among the first to teach the profession that it is much
easier, as well as safer, to reduce dislocations of this
joint by position and manipulation, than by means of
the old plan with blocks and pulleys, and main strength.
This was very ably and certainly set forth in a paper
read by Doctor Gunn before the American Surgical
Association at Washington in 1884.

"One of the main principles advocated by him and
expressed with great terseness, was that of placing the
dislocated member in exactly the same position which
it had at the time the head of the bone was. forced
through the capsular ligament. When in this position,
with tissues all relaxed by anaesthesia, the bone could
easily be caused to retain its cover and, too, without

330 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

the applicatiou of great force. As a matter of fact, no
surgeon ever had greater success in the treatment of
these injuries, when based upon the truths advocated
by him and applicable to them. Not only was this
true particularly in the treatment of recent dislocations,
but also after the abnormal adhesions present in them
were thoroughly and completely broken up.

"Doctor Gunn never assumed to be able to master
all the difficulties belonging to the cases presented with
so much diversity for consideration at his college clin-
ics, but always freely admitted his liability to err, not
infrequently expressing to the student in a somewhat
quaint and forcible manner: 'If your fore sight was as
good as your hind sight you would not make so many
mistakes by a sight.'"

CHAPTER THIRTIETH.

■PvOCTOE GUNN never seemed in better health than
^ in February, 1887, when he visited California.
San Francisco and many other places were enjoyed,

but none more than Santa Barbara. The W s fi'om

St. Louis had been for months at "The Arlington" (a
pleasant hotel where we found some Chicago friends).

Mr. W pressed upon the doctor the use of his

saddle-horse, which courtesy enabled him to scour the
country, explore out-of-the-way places, and obtain
magnificent, extended views of the sparkling blue
waters of the Pacific. Six weeks of almost unalloyed
happiness in this congenial climate unfitted us for our
uncongenial Spring. As we actually arrived in a bliz-
zard, this inhospitable reception made the doctor reiter-
ate, that if he were twenty years younger, California
should be his home.

A month later he had symptoms that suggested
to him rheumatism of the heart. He looked forward to
warm weather for relief, — warm weather came but not
relief. His professional work was continued, his at-

331

332 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

tendance upon his clinics was unfailing. One evening
in the latter part of July, a physician came to have
Doctor Gunn accompany him to the interior of the
state to operate. When he said that he was too ill to
go, we realized as we had never done before, the
gravity of his condition. We proposed a sea-voyage;
to this he replied, "I am not ambitious to be eaten
by sharks!"

His attention had been called to the mineral baths
at St. Clair. Being the most available point, the next
day saw us en route for these springs. A few days
after his arrival, he had a short discouraging illness;
then he seemed better, or at least his pain was gone;
this alone was sufficient to make him cheerful. He
never tired of the river scenery, and the surroundings
were agreeable. Some old friends and several new
acquaintances made a pleasant social element.

Among those in whom we became interested, and
who seemed equally interested in us, and who were
endeared to me on account of their regard for my hus-
band, were Mr. and Mrs. G , young married people,

and Mrs. S , who had early passed through a

shadow of trouble. Mrs. G , once speaking to me

of the doctor, said, " Though I have not seen so many
mile-stones, it has been my good fortune to go about
the world somewhat, and meet a great many people,

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 333

but never until I met Dr. Gunn have I seen a man that
so fully realizes my ideal, especially of what one would
wish for in a father. How proud his children must be
of him, how they must love and honor and venerate
him!"

One afternoon several of us were strolling along
near the river, when this always bright and agreeable
woman, with something like child-like pertinacity,
insisted that the doctor should entertain them by telling
about his courtship. At her repeated requests, that
he should " /eZZ U all,^'' he replied: — "If I should, you
would find it very tiresome, though some of it teas very
funny y Then with a lurking smile of humor, "Pardon
me for the simile : My wife in those days resembled the
Irishman's flea; she was sure of me, but I was never
sure of her — until I got her! "

Comparatively, these were bright and happy days,
most of them, and I mention this single incident to
show the doctor's light-heartedness, in contrast to the
weeks of depression that had gone before.

The G s left a few days in advance of us. A

merry party with exuberant spirits went down to the
landing to see them off. Amidst waving adieus as the
steamer receded from the wharf, the doctor's young
friend threw him a poppy! — a parting gift; he caught
it, waved a gallant farewell and they were gone. Who

334 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

could foresee the hour that brought me this letter
from her? —

" Cincinnati, November 13ih, 1887.

" My heart goes out in deep sympathy for you,
while a spirit of sadness comes over me as I write, to
beg the privilege of laying at your feet our humble
offering of respect for your husband, Doctor Gunn,
whom we had the honor to meet, and whom we have

since so thoroughly appreciated. Miss K , whom

I have lately seen, also holds his memory sacred, and
like every one who ever met and knew him, blesses the
opportunity afforded of having knoAvn a man so court-
eous and so distinguished.

" I shall never forget the walk along the river-bank,
when he touched upon the romance of his life with
humor that did not hide the pathos in his heart. More
than ever that day, I recognized his dignified and
noble bearing, blended with every impulse of a genial
and kind-hearted man. To me he looked like a great
general or leader born to command, and yet so tender
in all his home relations, and so observant of social
amenities. How well I remember throwing the poppy
from the deck of the steamer! Was it prophetic? I
can shut my eyes and see the glorious man he looked
standing there, head uncovered, hat aloft, waving me
that good-bye.

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 335

" He was one who drew appreciative hearts to him ;
it was impossible to be in his presence without feeling
the magnetism of his good influence. How much such
a life does for humanity! It would be in such an
atmosphere that we should love to live, and we hope to
blend our lives as beautifully as you did your own."

I return to one of the few remaining days, when we

drove with Judge and Mrs. H . The drive was

long and pleasant. Alighting at the "Oakland," the
doctor expressed his thanks for the enjoyment they had
given him, adding, "I have had a capital time. I feel
perfectly well and it won't do to fool aivay any more
time here. I must get back to work."

Sunday evening, which was the following evening,
he did not feel so well; Monday he did not leave
his room, but Tuesday morning re-appeared at the
breakfast table. Dr. T. W. M had been watch-
ing the doctor. Some hours later Mrs. H asked

when we were going. I replied "On Thursday."
"Well," she responded, "that will be time enough."
" For what ? " I said in surprise. Hesitating a moment,

she answered, "Dr. M fears your husband is going

to be ill, and thinks he ought to be at home." Was it
possible we had deceived ourselves ? No, it could not

336 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

be quite possible, but the chilling purport of her words
haunted me, and my heart sank to its lowest depths!

Thursday we left St. Clair, remained twenty-four
hours in Detroit with some life-long friends of my hus-
band— a visit which brings the saddest of pleasant
memories. Friday night we were at home; we had
just escaped. Sunday morning the doctor was serious-
ly ill. It is painful to revert briefly to this illness, —
to a night when his physicians thought he would never
see the morning. Their unwearied efforts restored him
to life. Afterwards he had a short convalescence, but
when he again found himself prostrated with days and
nights of suffering, he said, " It would have been better
if the doctors had let me die that nighiy

CHAPTER THIETY-FIRST.

^^ T UNE," — the doctor's saddle-horse, was a Kentuckj
J thoroughbred; beautiful as the month for which
she was named, and as intelligent, almost, as she was.
beautiful. Black, her coat, like the sheen of satin,,
glistened in the sun-light. Her small head, small
acute ears, eyes ever vigilant, broad, flat shoulders, light
sinewy legs, and other points, denoted her patrician
blood. She was a little over fifteen and a half hands
high. At first the doctor hesitated about taking her,
but was assured that a thoroughbred of her size could
carry him with ease, and that in a year or two she
would grow heavier. In carrying him she bore over
one-quarter of her own weight.

She could single-foot rapidly, though the doctor
seldom speeded her. To her bridle was attached a
coquettish nose-strap of fringed leather, just touching
her nostrils. By a motion of his hand, he had taught
her to place herself at his side. He mounted easily
and when in the saddle was mobile and magnificent,

22 337

338 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

while she with her light hoofs just spurning the ground,
moved proudly and gracefully along.

Dismounting at his door, the doctor threw her
bridle-rein over the saddle to indicate that he was
through with her services. She would then take a
small circle on the avenue, proudly turn the corner and
walk majestically to the stable at the end of the street,
where a groom was usually ready to receive her. If
not, after standing a moment, she would turn, take a
broad circuit and come again upon the platform. This
time, if she received no attention and was kept waiting,
she would neigh, or with her hoof paw on the closed
door.

She responded immediately to the doctor's raised
hand, whether several rods away on the lawn, where
sometimes she was permitted, or in her stall, from
which backing carefully, she turned and crossed the
stable floor, wheeling quickly in order to place herself
at the doctor's side, while he always caressed her
approvingly.

Guests staying in the house seldom failed to witness
this entertainment, when two or more of the family
were sure to add themselves to the small audience of
delighted guests. Once she was allowed to hurry over
one of the bridges just as the bell had rung. Ever
after when hearing the ring she would quicken her pace

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 339

and skim over before the bridge could be opened,
greatly to the amusement of those in charge.

During the doctor's supposed convalescence, he
desired a new span of carriage horses. As this in-
volved sending some of the others into the country, he
decided that "June" should be one of them, saying,
" Perhaps in the Spring when she comes back, her old
master will be able to ride her." The morning she
went (I saw her pass), I shall never forget the feelings
that came over me, but turning as cheerfully as I could,
I said, " Doctor, June has just gone! and you never saw
her." "No," he replied, "I avoided looking out for
fear I should see her."

The sensations awakened by the sight of a favorite
brute bereft of a loving master, are none the less
painful because the heart is full of a greater grief.
June seemed, and now seems, a part of him; and in
those old, familiar places where I have seen him riding
so royally, the superb vision is photographed on the
scene.

During the two weeks of the doctor's apparent im-
provement, he drove several times, but each day instead
of the distance being increased, it was lessened. AYhen
again prostrated, foreseeing his doom, and fearing a
lingering illness, he said: "God grant the struggle
may not last long!"

340 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

A few days — and the light of a more glorious world,
perhaps, dawned upon him, but to me the days were
darker than the darkest midnight hour. From out
that darkness, his intonation of a name falls upon my
ear and leaves me — in the desolation of despair!

CHAPTEK THTRTY-SECOJSTD.

n^HIS and the succeeding chapters contain a part only
^ of the many loving letters and tributes which
flowed in upon me after Doctor Gunn's death. I
regret that I cannot put them all in print, as well as
the generous testimonials received from the hospitals
and medical societies with which he was connected.

PROFESSOR CORYDON L. FORD.

"Ann Arbor, November 7th, 1887.
"I was astonished and pained at the
message received on Friday evening, for I had always
anticipated that Dr. Gunn, with his strong physique
and vigorous intellect, would long survive my own
feeble organization, to bless and serve the invalid, for
which he was so fitted by nature and attainments. . .
"Until I received the telegram I had supposed that
the doctor enjoyed the same vigorous health as when
we last met. I sorrow for his death as that of a
brother beloved. For more than forty years of pro-

341

342 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

fessional life, many of which were side by side, we
labored in our sphere to relieve human suffering and to
teach others to do so. Thousands will regret his early
removal as prematurely closing a career of unusual
success in his chosen field of labor, by which the world
loses a faithful servant, and the medical profession an
inspiring example, whose influence will, happily, be
perpetuated in numberless survivors.

" There is also the added comfort of a companion
whose death thousands join in lamenting, for your
sake, for their sake, and for the sake of humanity. . .
A true man has fallen, but his influence does not end;
the thousands who have profited by his invaluable
instruction and the contagion of his enthusiasm will
carry it on and cause it to be felt for many a year to

REV. GEORGE FRANCIS NELSON.

"Grace House, New York,

''November 16th, 1887.
" How can I tell you, my dear friend, of the pro-
found sympathy which the unhappy news from your
household has stirred in my heart. The memory of
old-time pleasant hours under your roof is so fresh and
dear to me still, even after this long lapse of years, that
your bereavement touches me with a shock as if I had

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 343

but yesterday come from your fireside, to hear to-day of
the shadow that has quenched its brightness.

"What a rare personality was Doctor Gunn's! He
was one of the few men I have ever known whose very
presence was an inspiration. With most of our friends,
perhaps, the graces of character which endear us to
them, are gems that brighten only in the light of our
intimate knowledge; they do not have the setting
always that seems best fitted to make them plain to
every eye. But now and then we meet men whose form
and bearing at once suggest even to the most casual
observer, the strong and gracious character within.
Such a man was the friend for whom I beg the privi-
lege of mingling my mourning with your own.

"How well I remember the room where we some-
times sat together at table! There was a window of
richly tinted glass overlooking the waters of Lake
Michigan, and giving to lake and sky, to stately ship,
or patched and lowly sail a coloring of strange, exquis-
ite beauty. And what a symbol that radiant window
was of the gifted physician to whom it belonged! How
it suggests to my thought that charity of his vision
which transfigured all that it viewed, and made the
crippled beggar equal to any prince, for the ministra-
tions of its mercy.

"There is another thing I love to recall. It is Doc-

344 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

tor Gumi at his telescope. AYhat enthusiasm was his
when he brought out the lens that made the starry
skies come closer with their pure looks! What new
interest he awakened in the group of his evening guests
on the summer veranda ! And was it not a sign of a life
that uplifted all it touched? He was never a dreamer.
The force that he turned to the star-lit vaulting of
the night was the force tliat bent in toil over day-time
tasks.

"I shall not soon forget the ring of his voice nor
the manly light of his face, and I am comforted not a
little that I felt the pressure of his hand the last time
I was in Chicago. What a heritage memory gives us
sometimes! Some light of sweetness fades out of that
vision which opens in the present and hopefully com-
forts in the future, but memory has garnered up some-
thing of its richness in the years that are gone, and
now sets its kindly influence like star-gleams breaking
the night of sorrow. Surely such a memory wakes and
works now in your grief.

"I cherish most of all the memory of his strong and
stainless spirit. I knew something of what he was out
in the busy world where his skill and energy made so
bright a mark, but it was my privilege to know him
better still at his own fireside, and it was there under
his kindly roof, where from time to time I had the good

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 345

fortune to be one of lii& guests, that I learned to esteem
him with a hearty thoroughness which made every
moment of his friendship a precious one.

" But his eyes, perhaps, thirsted for the light of
other worlds than our own. He was glad to awaken
such a thirst in his friends. And to all who knew him
this was but a sign of a heart that may have learned
amid all its hopes and toils to look away from earth
for its sweetest peace.

"Beloved physician and Christian friend, may God
keep alive in us the memory of thy wisdom, and com-
fort us for thy loss! "

dr. claudius h. mastin.

"Mobile, Alabama,

''November 14th, 1887.

"I was greatly shocked when I heard of the afflic-
tion which had fallen upon your family. Doctor Gunn
and myself were very warm personal friends, and while
our acquaintance had been of short duration, it soon
ripened into a genuine friendship which I had learned
to value. Although known professionally to each other
for many years, our personal acquaintance dates back
only to the summer of 1883.

" We met first in Philadelphia at the house of our
common and lamented friend. Professor Samuel D.

346 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

Gross. We were both in attendance upon the annual
session of the American Surgical Association. Dr.
Gross was President, whilst the Yice-Presidency was
vacant by the death of Dr. James Pi. Wood, of New
York. It so happened that I was on the nominating
committee, and through my influence Doctor Gunn was
chosen for that oflfice. After the death of Dr. Gross,
the Presidency of the association was filled first by Dr.
Moore of New York, then by Dr. Briggs of Tennessee.
When I again came into position, I nominated your
husband for the Presidency, and of course his election
was assured.

"We were in the habit
of frequently corresponding with each other, and at
this time I have a large number of his letters on file as
valuable documents. It is probable you may find
many of mine among his papers. Since the first day
we met in Philadelphia, in 1883, there has been an
uninterrupted friendship between us. My first inter-
view with him so impressed me that I was irresistibly
drawn to him by his manly, chivalric bearing, his
graceful manner, aod his distinguished personal ap-
pearance.

" In all my intercourse with youi' husband, I never
found him aught else than a polished gentleman and
scholar. He had all the attributes of a noble man.

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 347

From close observation, I always form a very just esti-
mate of men, and am not often mistaken in my diag-
nosis. From the first time I ever met him, I thought
him to be just what time has proved to be true; and I
fancy that old heraldic insignia, with its ribbon bearing
the motto of some old knight of yore, ^'Aut pax aid
helium, ^^ is justly and honorably worn by a worthy son
of an honored line. .....

" His paper before the association that year, im-
pressed me that he was no ordinary man intellectually.
There we shall miss his wise counsel, his genial society,
and his distinguished personnel. I cultivated an
acquaintance of which I have given you an outline,
— one which was full of pleasure for me. I can hardly
add to the many flattering testimonials already written
on the life and character of your husband. It would
afford me the greatest pleasure to say something more
in the way of an eulogy upon his life and to add my
grain of sand in rearing a monument to his memory.
In his death his friends have sustained a terrible blow,
the American Surgical Association has lost one of its
most valued fellows, and the profession of America
one of its brightest jewels.

" I will not longer intrude upon your sorrow, nor
attempt to offer you the valueless balm of consolation,
for it would be cold charity for me to speak to you of

348 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

his worth. His memory lives in the hearts of his pro-
fessional friends, and it will be long before the void he
has left, can be filled."

MRS. KATE H. LYMAN.

Washington, D. C, December 1st, 1888.

" The remembrance of the valued friendship with
which your kind husband honored me has prompted
this expression of sympathy and appreciation, which
is, however, utterly inadequate to express the esteem
and reverence due to a man of his genius, scientific
acquirements, and high professional learning.

"A memoir, it seems to me, my friend, is a sad
retrospect of the dear lives which have made life
happy, which taken in connection with our own, made
nature lovelier, friends dearer and living one bright
dream of happiness; not the sad recollection of those
days which shut out the loved ones from our view,
throwing over earth a pall and filling us with woe and
despair — days when our only sense was our misery and
the poignant knowledge of our loss.

"Let us leave this retrospect and go back to the
happier days — the days when we were all together in
your happy home.

"My first recollections of Dr. Gunn are so closely

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 349

allied with those of his wife and children, that for
me they are the sacred memory of a life not lived
in vain.

"At the time of the great fire in 1871, those days of
gloom were met by him with courage for himself and
the utterly wrecked college of which he was a distin-
guished member, and with sympathy and encouragement
for the suffering and unfortunate. That is to me a
peculiarly memorable time, and recalling his earnest
solicitude and interest is 'A sorrow's crown of sorrow'
in 'remembering happier days.'

"He was markedly conspicuous in public places by
his distinguished bearing; and as President of the
American Surgical Association in Washington in 1885
will long be remembered.

" His enjoyment of the social entertainments was
most gratifying to his friends here. The occasion of
his meeting the great philanthropist of this city, W.
W. Corcoran (since gone to his rest), was an occasion
not soon to be forgotten. It was a noticeable group,
the aged host, receiving that body of distinguished
men, prominent among whom was Doctor Gunn with
his handsome face and commanding figure. As he
bowed low with the courtesy and veneration due to the
recognized benefactor of this city, and as each spoke
words of greeting expressive of the respect due to the

350 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

other, all present paused for an instant. It was their
last meeting, and its impressiveness seems now to have
been prophetic of the change since come to both.

"But I could go on forever dreaming of this great
nature. In the words of his successor in Rush Col-
lege, 'How his place can be filled it is impossible to
tell.' But hearts do not break, and lives do not cease,
and the world moves on carelessly as though a hero
had not fallen by the way. Who can tell but that his
great mind has passed on to more complete perfection,
has solved the problem which must come to all some
time, and that he looks with pitying eye u]3on our poor
endeavors and disappointments, he having realized the
full fruition of all hope? Who can tell? May we
not hope that these days of tears, and prayers, and
aspirations, are the fuller accomplishment of a Divine
purpose for the happy reunion with the loved ones
gone before?

"That you may have encouragement for the purposes
of your life, and strength to accomplish all before you,
and that friends may seem dearer for the sweet sym-
pathy extended, and life become at least peaceful and
hopeful, is my dearest wish."

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 351

DR. ROSWELL PARK. *

"Buffalo, New York, November 5th, 1887.

" I should do myself scant justice
did I fail to at least express my sympathy for you . .
as well as to tell you of my own personal loss. The
doctor had indeed been a true friend to me, and I re-
vered him and had learned to regard him almost as one
might a parent. How much I owed him I could better
tell if you knew how favored I have been here where
his friendly influence placed me."

" Buffalo, New York, Jcmiiary, 1888.

"I send herewith a little tribute
of respect to Doctor Gunn's memory which I hope will
at least not displease you: —

" 'It is almost needless to say that there was much
in the character and ability of Professor Gunn which
young men should try to imitate. In regard to those
relations between doctor and patient, not only the most
cordial but the most sacred, he was punctilious to a
degree. Never could a word be elicited from him that
could disturb these relations or breed distrust.

" 'In the many delicate positions in which a consult-
ant often finds himself, no one was more considerate,
more honorable than he. In his habit of saying
nothing unkind of or to young men he showed himself

B52 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

his juniors' kindest friend. It never was my lot to call
in any one who was more considerate in all these re-
spects than he ; yet never for an instant sacrificing the
interests of the patient. In all that was courtly and
noble, I have never seen his superior.

" 'Of his abilities as a teacher and operator, others
who have seen him and known him longer than I, can
speak more fittingly, I have been so fortunate, how-
ever, as to see him time and again hold the attention
of large audiences absolutely riveted upon himself and
his work; and to those who really know what clinical
lecturing is, this means the possession of didactic and
oratorical powers of the highest order. His command-
ing figure, his beautiful command of his subject, his
grace of diction, his intrepidity of operating — all these
conspired to make his clinics memorable, as well as
to inspire in his auditors that enthusiastic reverence
with which every one of his former students remember
him.

"'Whether, then, one remembers him as teacher,
operator, friend or citizen, Doctor Gunn must ever
remain in one's memory as one of the commanding
characters of the century — one that may find, as it
ought, many imitators, but few if any rivals.'

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 353

"I also enclose what was an editorial notice of
his death, that I put in the journal of which I am
editor, 'The Medical Press of Western New York'
of December, 1887:—

" 'In many respects like his even more widely known
colleague (Langenbeck) was the late Professor Moses
Gunn, of Chicago, who died early in November.

" 'A graduate of the college of Geneva, which col-
lege, by the way, was moved to Buffalo and made the
Buffalo Medical College, a friend and class-mate of the
late Dr. Rochester, he determined to hew his own path
in the great West, and in 1846 settled in Ann Arbor.
He took with him two trunks, one of which contained
his personal effects; the other held the cadaver of a
colored man, which he intended to dissect in the pres-
ence of his new professional associates. He soon gath-
ered about him a class, and this became the nucleus of
the medical school which was attached to the University
of Michigan. In Ann Arbor as in Detroit Dr. Gunn
established a reputation which brought him an ex-
tensive practice.

" 'When Dr. Brainard died of cholera, after the war,
during the terrible epidemic which visited Chicago,
Doctor Gunn was invited to occupy his chair in Rush

354 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

Medical College, whicli he has since filled to the emi-
nent satisfaction and pride of all concerned.

"'A man of jovial nature, earnest and most pains-
taking in his work, honorable to the extreme degree,
an abominator of quackery in any form, a clear and
admirable teacher, an intrepid operator — he endeared
himself alike to the public and to the students whose
idol he was.

" 'It will be difficult to find his successor either in
the esteem of the "Western profession or his capability
of imparting instruction. He had been honored with
the highest evidences of respect by his brother sur-
geons, having recently been President of the American
Surgical Association.' "

DR. HENRY M. LYMAN.

"Chicago, August 9th, 1888.
. "I was one of the firm
friends and warm admirers of your husband, yet it was
so little of friendly intercourse with him that I could
ever enjoy, that my recollections are almost entirely
confined to our reunions at the meetings of the Faculty
or Trustees of the College, and its public anniversaries.
"I greatly admired his noble presence, his active
energy, his clear comprehension of every subject
brought before him, and his prompt decision when

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 355

judgment was required. He always produced upon me
the impression of a great, broad-gauged soul that could
never descend to anything low or mean. He was an
eagle always soaring in the upper air. It was a good
thing for students and for the younger members of the
profession to haye such an example living before them
— hence one of the sources of the regret which I feel
over his loss.

" I wish I could add more from a larger acquaint-
ance with my much honored friend, but the course of
our lives lay so far apart that I really possess too little,
in the matter of reminiscences such as you would
naturally desire. Count me always as having been
one of his most loyal friends."

CHAPTER THIRTY-THIRD.

A FEW words from Professor Hyde's address to the
-^^ class on the morning after Doctor Gunn's death :
— "A great man has gone from us. When we use the
term great, we all know it has a purely relative meaning.
A man Avho is esteemed great after a
life of intimate relationship with thousands of his fel-
low beings in many important, and even sacred trusts,
we may regard as great in some worthy sense of the
word.

"It has been my personal lot to know some of the
great men of the world. ... I have

known a few men in private life who, though then but
little esteemed, secured for themselves afterward a place
which the world thought high. Now with this possibly
narrow experience of greatness in others, I set it down
in calm judgment that he who has gone, should have
his name spread upon the roll of the truly great.

"This is not the place nor have I the right to occupy
your time in pronouncing that eulogy upon his great-
ness, which will be uttered more worthily by other lips

356

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 357

in another place. Others will speak and write of what
he was, what he did for his profession, what dextrous
skill he had, what scientific attainments he possessed.
Others will relate his history, from the days of his life
in school to those of his professorship; will follow his
footsteps over the western prairies in the piping times
of peace, as well as over the battle- worn fields of Vir-
ginia in the army of McClellan during the struggles
of war; and even over the lands beyond the sea
whither he travelled for recreation and observation.

"I dwell on none of these points. This is the hour
for the tears of friendship, for the broken accents of
the voice that mourns. I loved him and he is gone! —
that is my story of sorrow to-day. You loved him too,
I doubt not ; but perhaps none of you like myself had
this love strengthened by a thousand acts of unselfish
kindness or tested by an unfailing regard, enduring for
years and expressed always with the least demonstration
and the greatest constancy.

"When I say this of myself, I say it of every mem-
ber of the Faculty of the College. We loved him, we
all held him in the same tender regard. Our sense of
personal bereavement is our chief sorrow. Words fail
me in this moment of grief to tell all that is in our
hearts relating to his personal association with us, his
loyal attachments, his lofty ideal of honor, his uu-

358 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

swerving faithfulness to duty, his steadfast trust in his
friends, and his long self-denying labor. We are
heart-broken in this sorrow, 'For God maketh our
hearts soft, and the Almighty troubleth us.' "

Dr. Charles T. Parkes, Avho succeeded Doctor
Gunn in the chair of surgery at Kush Medical College,
made the following remarks at the first commencement
exercises of the college after the doctor's death: —

" To me has been awarded the privilege of making
a few remarks on some of the characteristics of my
immediate predecessor in the department of surgery in
this institution, the late Professor Moses Gunn, A.M.,
M.D., LL.D. I esteem this favor a great privilege;
still it is to me in part a task, because I fully appreciate
my inability to do proper justice to the chosen theme.

" May we not hope, however, that upon this occasion
a lew plain words, quietly spoken, by one who loved
him much, and reverenced him, if possible, more than
he loved him, will tell the story as well as if it were
enhanced by all the charms of oratory.

" Twenty years of the closest intimacy between two
men, an intimacy almost daily in frequency, without a
single manifestation of diversity of purpose, without
any unpleasant words spoken, without even the indul-
gence in an ungenerous thought one toward the other,

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 359

ought, when either of them is called upon to pay the
last debt to Nature, to make the testimony of the sur-
vivor trustworthy. At the same time, and quite as
surely, it fills his heart full of sadness to review the
long period of happy and honorable association, so
untimely ended, and to remember the loss we feel in
the absence of the departed one — so sadly and solemnly
suggested by this empty chair, bearing the emblems of
mourning.

"One year ago, on the occasion of the holding of
the commencement exercises of this institution, the
President very happily felicitated himself, and congrat-
ulated his colleagues, on the fact that so many years
had passed away without showing any break in the
chain which bound us together as a corps of teachers.
Alas ! how short the period in the midst of w^hich one of
the firmest links has been torn asunder by the strong
and resistless hand of Death! Professor Gunn, our
beloved brother, has gone away from his labors and
trials and worries, and who will catch up the thread
now that is fallen from his fingers ?

"The man who would inscribe his name high on
the walls of the temple erected in commemoration of
the deeds of great surgeons, alongside of the scroll
bearing the name of Moses Gunn — upon the reading
of which all men will gladly pay the obeisance of honor

360 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

and respect — must be a perfect master of the construc-
tion and functions of the component parts of the human
body ; of the changes induced in them by the onslaughts
of disease; of the defects cast upon them as a legacy
by progenitors ; of the vital capacity remaining in them
throughout all vicissitudes of existence. He must be,
at the same time, wise in human nature, wise in the
laws of general science, wise in social amenities.

"Professor Gunn came among us more than twenty
years ago, possessed of all these acquirements, and
more. During his stay in our midst we have been the
beneficiaries in the results of his tireless labors; the
recipients of his many acts of graceful and kindly
favor; the companions, among whom were enjoyed his
fleeting moments of ease and recreation. With us
there still remain man's triumphs and man's burdens —
to him has come God's peace and God's rest.

"If it is given for me to choose the most noticeable
of the many remarkable characteristics belonging to
this great surgeon, it would be embraced in the expres-
sion: "Devotion to Duty." With him an ever-present
and an every-day devotion, which the storms of winter
and the heats of summer availed not to diminish nor
dampen. A devotion as fresh and untiring as the
ardor of youth's enthusiasm ; a devotion as full of zeal
as that which animated the hearts of the fire worshipers

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 361

of old — the flame of their altar fires never went out, A
devotion to duty, which we, his colleagues, will do well
to imitate. Certainly a devotion which the students
cannot do better than to cultivate; and if they do but
cultivate it earnestly and continuously, there will surely
come to them, as to him, the fullest measure of success
and honor.

"It has always seemed to me that there is one
period in the life of those unfortunate individuals
afflicted with diseases demanding the surgeon's atten-
tion, which is more replete than any other with anxiety
of mind and distress of spirit; often, it constitutes a
perfect agony of suffering. It lies in the interval be-
tween the time when any present trouble is diagnosed,
its nature determined, and the hour appointed when a
surgical operation is to be done for its relief or removal.
It is an interval of time which the merciful surgeon
should never allow himself to forget. For the patient,
every moment of it is full of the worst forebodings,
engendered by the dread of the knife and the fear of
death.

"No patient ever shed one tear too many, or felt
one pang of anguish more than was absolutely neces-
sary, on account of any forgetfulness or lack of
punctuality on the part of Professor Gunn. With an
appointment made, he was as sure to be present at the

362 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

appointed hour, as the sun is to cross the horizon at its
fixed and stated time. More than once he has gone on
with the execution of a complicated operation requir-
ing several assistants, with myself alone to help him,
and the unavoidably detained aids would straggle in,
to be chagrined at witnessing an operation nearly or
quite completed.

"It is only by undeviating promptness and certainty
in keeping engagements of whatever nature, when once
made, that the professional man can be sure that his
day's work is well done; can gain or maintain stability
of reputation; can keep his friends, confound his ene-
mies, or hope to be rewarded with prosperity.

" Most men, in any vocation, come sooner or later
to enjoy some one portion of their work more than all
the rest. The treasure of Professor Gunn's heart,
professionally, was his free surgical clinic; the work
he most loved was done here, and the doing of it gave
him the most happiness. No possible combination of
circumstances, except absolute physical disability or
absence from the city, seemed powerful enough to keep
him out of the well known arena at the appointed hour
of his coming. Who can ever estimate the good done
by this man, in this one department of labor; and all
of it done for charity's sake? His best efforts, his
accumulated knowledge, his manhood's energies, his

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 363

bodily strength, given away for years, as freely and
bountifully as the air we breathe is given us.

"In this estimation of good done, there must be
counted not alone the hearts he comforted, the pain
assuaged, the deformities relieved, the diseases cured,
by his skill and genius and courage; but it must be
remembered as well, that the thousands of young men
who have listened to the words of wisdom as they fell
from his lips so eloquently and full of practical worth,
have garnered up the jewels of his ripe experience and
in their turn are spreading the same blessings among
the homes of almost every hamlet, village, town and
city in this broad land.

" Probably no person now living has witnessed as
much of the professional work of Professor Gunn, as
myself. The list, if made, would embrace almost every
known surgical procedure, from the simplest act the
surgeon ever does, to the most complicated undertaking
he ever presumes to think of doing. On none of these
occasions did he fail to be fully prepared, and instantly
ready to meet any and all the exigencies or indications
of the case in hand. This readiness could not possibly
have been the result of any haphazard processes of
thought; on the contrary, it was the outgrowth of the
most painstaking and deliberate consideration of all the
circumstances present in or surrounding the disease to

364

MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

be eradicated, or the injury to be repaired. Before
going to any operation, it evidently was his rule quietly
to sit down, and carefully, step by step, go over every
one of the procedures indicated, and to set aside as
carefully, in its proper place, every instrument or appli-
ance necessary for their execution.

"Further, not only were the plain requirements of
each case provided for, but as well, the possible acci-
dents likely to occur under any care, were considered,
and their harm, in case they happened, was reduced to
the minimum, by their occurrence being promptly met
with the proper remedy always at hand.

"In this characteristic of his, rests one of the main
elements of his great success as a surgeon. I say to
you that no man living or dead, no matter how great
the halo of glory or recollections that may arise at the
mention of the name, ever had more or better success
attend his efforts to relieve the ailments of suffering
humanity, than followed as the direct sequence of the
work of this truly eminent surgeon.

"One word in token of the honesty and modesty of
the man, and my story is ended. I do not refer to his
honesty in common things. Every line of his coun-
tenance, every motion of his magnificent form bespoke
him an honest man. I allude to his honesty in giving
professional opinions. No patient's understanding was

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 365

ever befogged by any trickery of words, or disingenu-
ousness of expression, or misrepresentation of facts.
Professor Gunn's opinions were always given in plain
words, easily understood, although perhaps sometimes
bluntly spoken. No doubt could remain in any patient's
mind as to his opinions when once expressed. They
were always expressed modestly as well, entirely free
from ostentation, egotism or self-assertion.

" There comes to me an instance of this trait of
character which occurred during the second year of my
pupilage as a student of medicine in this college, and
the first of his connection with it as a teacher. I hap-
pened to be present at a consultation between several
surgeons — among the number was Dr. Gunn — held to
consider the nature of a tumor. The examination was
carefully made, the growth was large, and to me, a
novice, seemed suiS&ciently characteristic. When it
came time for Professor Gunn to give his opinion, he
said, ' Gentlemen, I have practiced surgery long enough
to learn that it is a wise thing in a doubtful case to be
modest in expressing an opinion. I do not know what
this tumor is and think it had better be let alone.' In
my short experience it has been my good fortune to see
diseases considered, and operations for their relief done
by many prominent surgeons in many places; but I
have never met one who excelled, and very few who

366 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

equaled Professor Gunn in exactitude of diagnosis or
skill in execution.

"His self-reliance was wonderful in its perfection,
at times startling, at the ease and steadiness with which
it enabled him to approach safely close to the vital
parts of the living body. To him a hair's breadth was
oceans of room, and yet never any display of reckless-
ness. All this is readily understood, and proper appre-
ciation awarded, when his wonderful attention to details
and unerring knowledge are remembered.

" No man was ever more just to his fellow practi-
tioners. I have stimulated my memory many times,
since assuming this duty, in order to bring to my mind
any instances, on his part, of adverse criticisms of co-
laborers. I do not recall any. His time was too
precious to expend, his mind too fair to indulge in
the fruitless results of personal animosities, spites or
wrangles.

"Perhaps some one may say: — 'You have sounded
his praises, now let us hear of his faults.'

"I never hear any one speak of the faults of Pro-
fessor Gunn without my eyelids closing involuntarily,
and there comes up before me a vision of the heavens
on the brightest of nights. There are the fixed stars;
their light is never dimmed ; they are unchangeable and
everlasting. How pleasant it is to carry the eye from one

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 367

to another, trying to estimate their difference in beauty
as they seem to vie with each other in glory ! Suddenly
there flashes across the view a flaming meteor, momen-
tarily obscuring all else, as it passes quickly on into
outer darkness. Who will say that the beauty of the
scene has been marred by the intruder; nay, it has
been increased.

"So with our friend; his virtues and excellences are
as the fixed stars ; they become brighter and fuller the
longer and oftener they are examined; they are im-
pressed upon our hearts indelibly. His faults, if he
had any, have gone like a flash into oblivion."

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUETH.

REV. DR. CLINTON LOCKE.

^^'T^HEEE are certain relations between a pastor and
^ a parishioner, certain confidences between a
rector and one who has been intimately associated with
him, which often enables the one to say things about
the other, which might 'not come with so good a grace
from any other man.

"Such were the relations between Dr. Moses Gunn
and the writer of these lines. They had long been
united together as rector and warden, and for many
years as a valued member of the medical staff of the
hospital of which the writer is president, and above all
they were dear personal friends and accustomed to meet
each other in the most free and friendly intercourse.
This may color the writer's sentences and influence his
judgment, but the memoir of which this forms a part
is the tribute of loving and friendly hearts and is meant
to speak warmly and partially. It is not some cold
compilation of an uninterested historian writing about
some one dead a century or two ago.

368

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 369

"I well remember in the year 18(37, Dr. J. Adams
Allen saying to me: — 'I have found a new parishioner
for you and I can thoroughly indorse him as a good
churchman and a noble fellow. He is my old friend
Moses Gunn.' Soon after, Dr. Allen brought him to
see me, and I was struck, as every one was, with his
splendid physique. Tall, stately, well-proportioned,
every feature of the face and every movement of the
body expressing energy and force, he was in every
sense of the word, a noble looking man; and seemed to
grow more so as he grew older.

"He met me with that frank cordiality which put
us both at our ease, for he said in a moment: — 'I was at
church last Sunday ; I like the little church, I like you
and I liked the sermon, and I know I shall be happy
there.' No rector could resist that, and that first inter-
view was the beginning of a long and lasting friend-
ship.

"Let me speak of him first as a churchman. He
had gone through as much mental and spiritual con-
flict as men of his profession are apt to do if they are
at all thoughtful men. That materialism which saps
the faith of so many of his fellow doctors had spread
all its specious glamour before him. He had weighed
its arguments and found them wanting. He said to
me once: — 'I often doubt terribly, but I say to myself,

24

370 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

I looked this thing all over once, I went through the
arguments and I decided that the immense balance of
testimony was in favor of Christianity, and I cannot
take time to go all over it again.'

"He was not even willing to admit the claims of
systems of evolution which Christian men think per-
fectly reconcilable with the faith of the scriptures.
He said they could not be scientifically proved to his
satisfaction, and that he was impatient of mere theo-
ries. He told me once that he thought sermons on the
difficulties between science and revelation very ^un-
necessary, for there was no real difficulty, their spheres
did not touch. I did not agree with him in this, though
I find many devout doctors think as he did.

"I remember once when the sermon had been on
the ' Powerlessness of infidelity to move the great mass
of the people,' he stopped after church to say that the
sermon had done him much good, and that he would
make use of some of the arguments in his talks to
students. Many times he has said to me 'I wish I had
more faith.' There are but few of us who cannot re-
echo his sentiments and share his yearning.

"He was a member of the Protestant Episcopal
church from sincere and honest conviction. He was
what we call now an old-fashioned high churchman,
holding firmly to the doctrines of Apostolic Order and

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 371

Sacramental Grace, and any violation of any kind of
vow or obligation was to him unbearable. His Prayer-
Book to him was next thing to his Bible and he held
with the utmost firmness to its regulations. He was
not given to 'new things' as he called them, and any
change in the ceremonial had to recommend itself very
plainly to his judgment before he would thoroughly
accept it.

"When the parish resolved to adopt the vested
choir and to give up the very excellent quartette, to
whose fine rendering of the music he was much
attached, he was quite disturbed; but he grew to like
the music, and said to me before he died: — 'It makes
the service much more devotional than the old way, I
must confess it.'

"In church he was always thoroughly devout and
one of the most attentive listeners a preacher ever had;
not only attentive but appreciative; and never forgot to
bestow that word of commendation which is ever so
grateful for a rector to have, when he knows it is not
the outcome of hollow, insincere flattery.

"During the best years of his life his connection
with a large hospital, which required Sunday morning
duties, often obliged him to be absent from his place in
church. Once while he was so ill, when he heard I had
been told it was impossible to see him, he said: — 'I do

372 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

not think it would hurt me to see my pastor; at least
I feel that I ought to see him. '

"Let me speak of him as a parishioner. He took
for many years an active part in the management of
the parish, being a vestryman, and after that for some
years one of the wardens. These offices were to him
not mere places of honor, but duties which he conscien-
tiously discharged and to which he gave his closest
attention.

"He gave always a proportion that he thought just,
and no argument could make him give more, or sanction
any measure which he did not think could honestly be
carried out. Not only did he do faithfully his duty as
an officer of the parish, but he aided in the development
of the social side. After the fire, it was necessary to
give that feature more prominence than is now done,
and it was always a pleasant thing to me to see a sur-
geon so eminent and whose time was so closely occupied,
devoting himself to the pleasure of others in whom he
had no interest, except that they were fellow parish-
ioners.

"I often asked his advice about parish matters, and
always with profit. He was perhaps a little conserva-
tive for one as pushing as I then was, but I have
reason to remember him many times, when I recognize
that his course was wise and his suggestions those

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 373

which it was best to follow. I was sorry when he felt
that his duties on Sunday precluded any longer retain-
ing the wardenship.

"As a friend Doctor Gunn was always constant and
true. His friendship was not one of words but of
deeds. Never can the writer forget when he went to
consult the doctor about his son's commencing the
study of medicine, how affectionately he was met, how
the doctor immediately placed at his disposal all his
influence, and prepared to take the young man under
his own care, and to look after him as if he were his
own, and he did so nearly to his dying day, so that
next to his own family there were none that felt his loss
more deeply than the rector and his wife, for they
recognized what their son had lost in a friend and
counselor, and how impossible it would be to supply
the place of him who had gone.

" Doctor Gunn's manners were very courteous, and
well might be called elegant. He conversed well in
general society, was fond of it, and wherever he went,
and no matter how great the assemblage, was always a
conspicuous figure. In his consulting room and by
the operating table, there was a quietness and a decided
manner, which, while very necessary there, would be
out of place in the drawing-room; but he well knew
how to make the distinction between the two places.

374 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

" In St. Luke's Hospital, with which he was long
connected, and where the writer ( being president )
often saw him, he was thoroughly beloved by both
nurses and patients. He was never at a loss, never
gave dubious directions, never asked for impossibilities.
Common-sense characterized all his actions, mingled
with a tenderness for his poor suffering charges which
always called forth my admiration. I often consulted
him about the affairs of the hospital, and always with
profit. He had its interests at heart and rejoiced over
every mark of its prosperity. I feel sure that the
same would be said of him in the other large hospitals
with which he was connected and to which he rendered
the most important services.

" It is not my place to speak of him as a professor
in Eush Medical College, or as a surgeon of the very
first rank. Those are phases of his life which are best
described by his brother doctors, who can much better
understand their merits than one who merely views
them from an unlearned standpoint. He was a man of
extensive reading, outside of his profession, and was
ever occupying himself with some favorite hobby — not
a useless one. Once it was German, in which he be-
came a proficient; later it was French, which he read
with the greatest assiduity ; then again it was astronomy
to which he gave himself with enthusiasm, and in

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 375

which for a long time he took the greatest delight.
Horsemanship was natural to him and like the Cen-
taurs of old, horse and man seemed one!

"It is seldom that one so distinguished passes a life
so long, with so few enemies. He never provoked
opposition, although most decided in opinions and tena-
cious of his own judgment.

" He died amid universal regret; who that ever saw
it can forget that crowded church, filled with the dis-
tinguished as well as others, showing how truly they
all felt the loss the cause of humanity had sustained?

" It was a most impressive funeral; and not the least
of it was the burial just as the shades of night were
darkening. One could scarcely distinguish faces. The
few lanterns that were held up to enable the priest to
read the words of committal, and to aid those charged
with the last sad duties threw a wierd and solemn light
on the scene. Here was left his body, but his soul, we
trust, was already in that Paradise of the Blessed where
God's servants rest from their labors.

" Let me end this sketch wdth the words which I
pronounced over his grand form, draped for burial, as it
lay in his open coffin before the altar in the hour of
his funeral: —

" We sometimes feel when we are summoned to
pay the last tribute of respect to the dead that the

376 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

passing away of the personage we are burying is of no
importance anyway. The world was no better for him ;
a negative quantity; his death, as Scripture says, 'a
keel passing through water which leaves no trace be-
hind.' But we feel differently from that to-day. The
man around whose coffin we are gathered will be widely
missed. It does make a difference to the community
whether he lived^ or died; he does leave a place which
will not readily be filled. A marked man in many
ways: Marked in his personal appearance; in every
assembly he stood distinguished for his glorious pres-
ence, and we all know how much that impresses itself
on every one. Marked for his energy and eagerness ;
although no longer young, no young man was ever
fuller of fire and dash, and swiftness of execution.
Marked for his dexterity; with unerring precision the
knife in his hand found its place, and did its work.
Marked for his accurate knowledge of the human body,
and the cleverness and finish with which he ever im-
parted that knowledge to the thousands who these many
years have come under his instruction. Marked for his
courtesy and kindness, treating the poorest patient as
though she were a duke's daughter. Marked for that
steady purpose, that unflinching devotion to his art,
that brilliant perception of each case, which raised him
to the highest rank of his profession.

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. 377

" But let me in this place, leaving his professional
career to those far abler than I to picture it, speak of
him in other lights. He was marked for untarnished
honor and unswerving integrity. He carried almost to
a passion his strict discharge of obligation, and careful-
ness in business accounts. He Avas marked for an
intense sympathy with the struggles and lives of the
young men whom he led. He was marked for a simple,
unostentatious, religious life. He had very little pa-
tience with modern materialism — very little patience
with the infidelity some of his profession see fit to put
forth. He believed in the gospel of Jesus Christ —
long ago cast in his lot with it, and lived in the profes-
sion and practice of it until his death. He regretted
often that professional duties kept him so much from
the services of the sanctuary. He was for some years
senior warden of his church, and for many years one of
its most honored members. I mourn him as a dear
friend as well as a valued parishioner. He lived a
long, busy, useful, model life. He has entered now
into his Christian rest. May he sleep in peace, and
may perpetual light shine upon him."

A FEW LAST WOEDS.

A NNIYEKSAEIES are always pleasurable or sad.
-^~^ A time comes in our lives when they are all sad.
The anticipations and realities of Christmas had unusual
charms for Doctor Gunn. This remembrance of their
father's happiness must forever be enshrined in the
hearts of his children.

Christmas morning of 1888 was bright and sunny,
but no darker day could dawn for me. A light fall of
fleecy snow covered the spot to which we had made our
sad pilgrimage. On the pure drapery we laid immor-
telles and holly. How strange and unnatural it seemed
and how futile any attempt to penetrate that veil which
hides from us the future! Waves of sorrow surged
through my mind as we retraced our journey; and as
we reached our home, the direful reality came upon me,
that the soul of Christmas was forever gone.

On one of the last days the doctor said, "Do you
know we have lived together nearly forty years ? In a
few more months, it will be forty years." He kept

account of all such anniversaries, but this account was

378

MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

379

left for me to keep with the blackest thread of anguish
that could be woven into the woof of an anniversary.

In a tender letter of sympathy from Mrs. Custer,
are a few words in reference to herself, which I hope
she will pardon me for quoting: —

" In this last hour I have finished the proof of my
book about my beloved husband. For eighteen months
it has wrapped me round like a cloak I could not un-
loose day or night. In living over again the days that
are forever gone, I have suffered anguish; but the com-
fort it gives me to pay tribute to one I love, has given
me strength!" .....

"There is nothing that can give you courage but a
full life. Work has been my salvation. May our
Heavenly Father open a way to you to forget yourself!

Her words have been re-echoed in my heart. To
dwell with loving care on one, who was to me the type
of true manliness, has been the solace of my compan-
ionless hours.

Those who had known him long and intimately
could not know all his inner life. He thanked God for

380 MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

mene existence. He never outlived the romance of his
love, and perhaps it is not too much to add, that over a
period of almost forty years, in letters to his wife,
were passages worth living — and dying for.

And now^ that the sad pleasure of my work is done,
I feel the dread pall of my loneliness settling down
around me; I see no light, nor the out-stretched hand
that guides me on my way — I grope and stumble in
my path, and take the journey step by step — alone!

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